


A million Nights to get Us back

by Faiseuse_d_Histoires



Category: Gone With the Wind - All Media Types, Gone With the Wind - Margaret Mitchell
Genre: Canon Continuation, Dare, F/M, Family, I swear, Post-Canon, Romance, Scarlett is slowly opening her eyes, Some heavy themes coming, and learning new tricks, and... somehow angst managed to find its way in?, and... who's in for some adventures?, but no tragedy, determined scarlett o'hara, sometimes more like a crackfic, sometimes with quite a bit of drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:00:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 321,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24083227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faiseuse_d_Histoires/pseuds/Faiseuse_d_Histoires
Summary: "Rhett was leaving. Again. Once more, Scarlett was watching him turning his back on her, on their story, and her heart was breaking into tiny pieces. Pieces that he clearly said it was not in his interest to pick them up.Time after time, she had tried everything to get him back.Now was the last gamble."Confronted once again with Rhett's departure after the events of the book, Scarlett finds herself setting a final challenge for him. If he guesses the end of the story she will tell him night after night before she even utters the word "fin", she'll accept letting him go for good, even at the expanse of her reputation. But as the story goes on, past and present will reveal other obstacles that may forever change their ways...
Relationships: Rhett Butler & Scarlett O'Hara, Rhett Butler/Scarlett O'Hara, Scarlett O'Hara & her children
Comments: 37
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Gone with the Wind nor its characters. They are the propriety of Margaret Mitchell and her heirs. Nor 1001 nights by the way.  
> This is my first attempt at fanfiction for Gone with the Wind (and it's a bit of a crackfic at moments). Let me know what you think about it!

Rhett was leaving. Again. Once more, Scarlett was watching him turning his back on her, on their story, and her heart was breaking into tiny pieces. Pieces that he clearly said it was not in his interest to pick up.

Time after time, she had tried everything to get him back.

Now was the last gamble.

The year had been hard on them, with all the losses they had suffered.

Little Ella found herself more and more knocking at her mother’s door. At first, she was rejected firmly (sometimes angrily). However, seeing that her poor memory did not seem to make her learn she should avoid such situations, a weary Scarlett found herself forced to accept her presence in her bed to comfort her.

Or was it Ella comforting her? Never analytical, Scarlett did not think much about it.

The first time, three weeks after Melly’s funeral, she thought showing him how miserable and so, so sorry she was would at least move some strings of his heart. He only sighed, patted her on the head like he would a child, then went away back to wherever he wanted to go. Six months passed, and during that period she had to survive Christmas without husband, and with the children, one very talkative, the other silent as a tomb, and the feeling of the loss of her favorite who would have lightened up the holiday like a shooting star even more unbearable. So much for keeping the gossip down.

He sent an atlas for Wade and a doll for little Ella, but that was all. Nothing for her, just a polite “Merry Christmas”. Wade looked at the cover of his book like it was a treasure, then hid himself inside his room for two days. Ella’s doll barely survived one day, and she insisted her mother would read her a story.

Rhett once had said she had less motherly instincts than a cat. She would show him, she had decided. That, and other things.

The second time, she put on a cold demeanor, hoping it would rouse him up, like it did before. It didn’t. Instead, he talked more that day, in a business-like fashion that made her feel like a stranger, a person he barely interested himself in. He made a few salutes, spent most of his nights at Belle’s to her chagrin, and then as soon as the week was over, so was his stay.

She had to try to comfort the poor Wade, who had been so eager to talk with him about the Atlas. Unfortunately, comfort had never been her strongest point, and she had to spend a whole afternoon on that damned Atlas with him to achieve some result. It would have bored her to death if she hadn’t noticed, to her surprise, that her ignorance about such subject gave Wade a little more confidence on talking back to her. Even more surprisingly, she found herself willing to listen.

Two months passed, one month after Wade’s birthday. A book was sent for him, but he hesitated to open it. Scarlett felt strangely saddened by it and opened it for herself, curious (and a little jealous) to know what it was. Ella jumped on the occasion to ask her to read it.

It was a nice story, actually, with a lot of adventures and a no-nonsense way about it. She found herself wondering why no one had ever told her that reading could actually be enjoyable. It made her remember Rhett’s own stories, that he would tell her when recalling his blockade runner’s days, before they (well, _she_ ) decided it was better if they slept in separate rooms.

She read to Ella, and soon Wade joined them silently. He did not ask questions like Ella did, but she could see his eyes shining with interest towards the disregarded object.

The third time, she tried to seduce him. She had been, after all, the belle of five counties. She had never lacked for suitors, and she knew how to play that part. He barely looked at her, only said he wondered how much rouge she intended to put on her face to hide the effects of her age. The rest of his stay passed with her anger and sulking, and he seemed to enjoy reminding her that such things had no effect on him.

At least he hadn’t lost his bite, she noticed bitterly.

At least Ella seemed to appreciate her efforts, and asked for her mama to put some rouge on her too.

… well, she wasn’t sure it was a compliment anymore. But she enjoyed the childish, genuine feeling.

She only had the satisfaction to see that Rhett’s pat on Wade’s head wasn’t that much appreciated anymore.

The fourth time, she remembered he was looking for grace and dignity. She had certainly news about his doings in Charleston by Aunt Eulalie and Pauline, who did not hesitate to admire openly Captain Butler’s generosity and kindness towards his mother and sister and deplore her own lack of such filial feelings. She tried then to remember all that the war and her years of marriage to Rhett made her forget, and raised again Ellen as her model of perfection and soft dignity.

He only laughed at her and told her she was a bad actress. She snapped at him, and another vase was broken. He had blinked then, before laughing once again. A brief moment of genuineness, before becoming a stranger once more.

This time Wade did not attend his departure. Ella blinked, then went on her own way, taking her mother’s hand in her, demanding a story. Wade was waiting in the nursery for them.

The fifth time, she tried to talk to his rational mind. He brought back again the subject of divorce. She said no. He promised nearly the half of his fortune. She replied that as a wife, she benefitted for more than that. He threatened her to cut her funds. She told him he wouldn’t dare, with all his talks about rebuilding his reputation.

He went away again for five months.

The worst with that was the more she tried, the more he seemed to thrive in it. He was becoming more and more of a cad. Crueler and crueler.

Actually, now that she thought it, he was only turning back to what he once was, before the loss of Bonnie.

Except now it wasn’t to hide any feeling of love for her. He clearly made her understand that. Time and time again.

And now was the sixth time. Weary of it, she had tried to brush it off, but the resignation would not come.

They had been friends, she had remembered. Once, he had been the only one she could talk to, freely, without fearing she might get looked upon for her opinions. He had made her laugh, he had comforted her when she felt sad, and valued her opinions, never once made her feel like she was a burden.

These memories were even harder now, with the situation being as it was.

Did she love him still? Oh, yes, now more than ever. She loved the fact that his dark eyes regained their glimmer, and his body his firmness from when he came back from Charleston the second time. Painful as it was, she could see it had done him good. She loved how he did not try to hide the signs of age as any other gentleman would do. She loved the way he would remark things and create a story about it. She was proud of how he was capable of charming everyone, but still sometimes seemed to find more enjoyable to turn the others in derision.

She loved the way she had fit in these arms, and how he once would whisper her sweet words at the ears, though never quite close to the three words that would have changed everything.

She felt the melancholy of all of this, so much that when he tried to rile her up, she barely answered; so lost in her thoughts as she was.

He had been almost nice then, but when she made a sign to lean on him, he stepped back abruptly, and exclaimed with a touch of sarcasm that bit her: “Well, what is that? Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler crying again? I thought you were more combative than that!”

It managed to rouse her up a bit, and she found herself glaring at him, glaring at this smirk she still couldn’t help but find so attractive.

Once he had loved her. Once he had said he had never wanted another woman like her, and never waited for any other woman that long.

Where did it all go? How could such love, that she had barely had a taste of before it was too late, could wear out?

He once told her bitterly that as her mind only worked with money, and that with that comparison, his love had been a million he had spent and that now he was ruined. But then, she did not understand it. If love was like money, then it could be possible to gain it again, by working for it. Couldn’t it?

With one last cry of the heart, she called for him.

“Rhett! Don’t go!”

He stopped, his suitcase with him. For some time, his hand was still on the handle of the door, and there was still that terrible, terrible distance between them. Then, finally, he turned towards her.

His face was inscrutable as he replied.

“Now, dear, why would I do that?”

She froze, shocked. She had not thought he would ask her that. She had briefly hoped finally he would realize he loved her still, and that he would kiss her passionately, like he did before.

Nervously, she tried to gather her thoughts. Her hands fidgeted a little, and her mind was racing with the possibilities and the anguish. It was now or never, she thought. She had tried everything. What could she do? How could she make him stay? How could she possibly gain his interests?

Suddenly, an image of little Ella came to her, demanding, the unfinished book of the week on her hands. Her and all her questions, sometimes nonsensical, but that at the end, she couldn’t just answer with a snappish “because things are like that!”. The image of Wade too, and how he now sat through each reading.

“A story !” She cried finally. “I’ll tell you a story! If you guess what is going to happen, I’ll let you go!”

He blinked, then looked at her in disbelief.

“My dear, imagination has never been your forte, so…”

She winced. It was true. And now, she was saying she would do that without support. But still, the difficulty somehow excited her. It was a challenge, she realized. Like one she never had for so long…

She crossed her arms.

It was adversity that had made Scarlett O’Hara. Competition. And this battle, it was one she despairingly wanted to win.

“What do you have to lose?” She found the strength to taunt him. “You who always guessed everything before I even figure out? It’s just a little game. If you guess it… you’re free! I’ll… sign the papers of divorce.”

He stared at her, and she knew then she had gained his interests. It hurt to know that she had to bring up divorce to interest him, but at least she had his attention. He was alert, and he was looking at her like a cat at a mousehole. His moves were precautious, such as his tone. Though she could see he did not believe her.

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Your promises by themselves are as hazardous as the market price of cotton, my pet.”

“I swear on Tara!” She relented, bull-headed. “If you don’t accept, I’ll make sure your life, whether it is in Atlanta, Charleston or wherever, be a living hell!”

Businesslike, she reached out in order to shake his hand.

His expression was one of amusement as he took her hand in his.

“Somehow, I believe you’ll be able to do just that…” He mused, before leading her to the parlor. She noticed with satisfaction his suitcase had been put on the floor, near the entrance. “But just so you know... Even a million nights would not be enough to get us back. So tonight, you’ll be signing the papers for me, then. Come on, little Scheherazade, tell me your story”

“Who?”

He was confident, too confident, and suddenly she wondered if she was doing the right thing.

“It’s… never mind, go on.”

She stopped, undecided, before shaking her head.

“But Rhett,… No. I need a special… atmosphere.”

He raised one eyebrow.

“A special atmosphere? Quite big of a word for you.”

“God’s nightgown, Rhett! Hadn’t you once said to me there was nothing left for me but kindness and pity? Since the beginning, you’ve been nothing like that! What would it cost you to wait after the supper, to hear the story? There’s still a train tonight, and even tomorrow, you know.”

His eyes widened, and she thought she heard him mumbled something like “damn, she still uses my words again me”. Then he chuckled.

“Alright, alright. But then, don’t you dare dressing up like a woman in a harem. That won’t work, pet.”

“What are you going on about?” She protested. Then, she realized, her eyes widening (and though it shamed her to admit, she was a little intrigued). “Not everyone has such… indecent thoughts like you!”

He only laughed more.

And with that, the morning was over, and she realized with horror that she had to create a whole story before the night come, that while still intending to her work at the store, and the now usual reading session of the children. She thought she heard Rhett stop once at the door of the nursery. But then who knew? It may have been another servant. She made sure to ask for a copious meal, hoping then Rhett would fall asleep more easily and thus spend the night here.

After the dinner, she had still no idea, and took refuge in the study. She tried to look for books, but suddenly, the reading was unbearable for her.

So when he joined her, commenting with a laconic “quite fitting, a study with only few candles to light the place”, she still had no idea where she wanted the story to begin, though she was quite sure she wouldn’t mind a happy ending with true love conquering all.

Especially when she smelt that scent of his, so masculine and familiar, dancing towards her nose as he sat on the couch next to her. With such distracting fact, she was tempted to either jump on him and embrace him fiercely or ask him to go to Halifax.

“So?”

His eyes were daring her now.

“So…” She began, before stopping.

The clock rang, and it raised her up.

“There was a girl… who had everything she could ask. Except one thing.”

“Let me guess, the affections of her one true love!”

How could he… No, she wasn’t going to let him go like that.

“No! Err… Actually, she didn’t know what it was.”

He raised one eyebrow.

“She didn’t know?”

“Hush, let me continue. It’s only the beginning. She was… filled with a void. A sensation that she had forgotten something. Or someone. She didn’t know what it was. But she was living with it, day after day. She asked, and everything was given to her, and yet… It wasn’t enough. It was never enough.”

“Quite a greedy little thing. I wonder who she can be…” She glared at him. “Alright, alright, continue.”

“Her name was Solene, if you want to know. Oh, don’t laugh! Her parents were quite worried about her. They were… the king and the queen of… Maldokoslavarov.”

She was proud of creating it. It sounded grand. It sounded intelligent. It sounded…

“The king and queen of Maldok… what?”

“Maldokoslarazof… No, Madolkaslaramov. Well, nevermind the name of the kingdom. It was a tiny kingdom, you see, which prospered a lot thanks to…”

“Cotton?”

“… radishes.”

“Radishes?”

“Are you judging people for the things they sell? … Actually, their soil was very fertile, and quite perfect for the growth of radishes, and all the people loved them! They had a lot of recipes with radishes. Fried radishes, baked radishes, radishes in cakes…”

“Well, I get that, they really loved radishes. But you were talking of a girl…”

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett! Aren’t you the one who always told me it was better, to understand something, to know what is going on around it? “

“The market price of radishes is important for understanding your story?”

“More than you know!”

They stared at each other a long moment, before he gestured her to continue.

“So, well, the market price of the radishes was pretty good as the beginning of the story. They were the best producers of radishes the world had ever known, and they were quite asked for too.”

“Oh, because everyone loved radishes.”

“No. Because it was also used in… er… cosmetics!”

“Your knowledge in that subject astonishes me, my dear.”

“It can be good for the hair, you know?” She relented. “It is known.”

“If you say so.”

“I say so,” She persisted. “By the way, with this market, they had a great competitor in their neighbor, the kingdom of… Calcedonia.”

“This is getting ridiculous.”

“This is my story. My rules,” She continued. “The kingdom of Calcedonia was a bigger country, much bigger than… where the heroine lived. But the soil was not as fertile. The thing was, the soil of Solene’s land was fertilized with a very special ingredient, that made everything better. Years and years, the kingdom of Calcedonia tried to be the best in that domain, until finally the king decided it would be good to meet. He had a son, after all, a beautiful grown man, with hair as fair as wheat. This one… was already engaged, so he did not think it could be possible to marry Solene, and then unite the two countries. So in fact, he asked him if he could get the secret of the fertility of the soil by seducing her.”

She was improvising, remembering the stories she read with the children, and, to her shame, adding some part of her own. She hoped he wouldn’t notice.

He raised lightly with a lazy smirk, and suddenly, she was reminded of Ella, when she tried to answer her own questions and thought she had gotten it right.

“Oh, there he is, the noble, golden prince!” He said with a weary triumph. “I wondered when he would finally come. That’s it, I’ve guessed the story. She’s going to end up with him.”

Somehow, she felt it did not please him.

“Of course not!”

She felt almost insulted by that. Though if she was honest with herself… She had considered it.

He stared. Then, nonchalantly, as if it did not mean anything, he sat deeper on the couch, like a panther deciding to take a nap.

“Well… that’s unexpected. Unless you expect me to be swept off my feet if she ends up with a pirate.”

“There might be a pirate,” She smiled brightly, another idea coming to her. “But… Well, that wouldn’t be it. No pirate stays in land long enough to procure a satisfying ending.”

“Oh, it could.”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Could it?”

He stopped. He had almost fallen into her trap. His face froze a while, before it relaxed.

“Go on.”

She felt her heart beating a little at that. Could it be an opening?

“So… Solene and Aaron – that’s the name of the prince, by the way – met. And when she saw him, she thought she found… something.”

“Surprising.”

“She didn’t know what it was.”

“She doesn’t seem to know a lot.”

She glared.

“She’s a very clever lady!”

“If you say so.”

“God’s nightgown, you… Well, yes, she thought she fancied him, yes. But still, there was still that void, and she may or may not have thought marrying him would solve everything. But then, her pa did not want that.”

“Wise man.”

“He said ‘my lass…”

“Oh, he’s Irish?”

“That was before Ireland was created,” She couldn’t help blowing a raspberry at him.

He laughed lightly. And, well, she couldn’t help the smile on her face too. She felt tired, and she wondered if he felt it too. But still, she continued.

“Well, he said ‘my lass, I can’t let you marry him. You haven’t seen the world yet, you don’t know what you want…”

“Wise man.”

“ ‘When I was your age, I went from the kingdom of Trix to… Dafalpest.,” She stopped, before wondering how she could make the story longer. Then, strangely, another idea came to her, and she marveled at it. “Once, I fought with a giant as high and strong as an oak, and he told me this story. When he was a little boy, his Ma and Pa decided to make him a man by sending him to the war with the… the fairies. Because, you know, there were a lot of fairies at that time, and they were always fighting with the giants. The giant didn’t want to go to war, he was afraid of what would happen if he set foot on their territory. It was said they could turn him into stone. So he left his home, deciding to find a safe place, where he would be sure not to be bothered with anything like a war. But then… he met me - I mean, Solene’s dad - and I disturbed his peace. So we fought and I won. And when he asked what the price of his defeat would be, I said ‘Go to war, giant fellow. It is the right thing to do. It will make you a man.’”

Suddenly, her eyes were heavy. She looked at Rhett, who seemed to be struggling as well. Though she could see a curious glint in his eyes.

“And what happened?” He asked softly.

“The giant…” She mumbled. “He decided to go to war. And that’s what I tell you Solene. I fought the giant for him to make the right decision. And I’m going to fight you now. You want the easy way, but the easy way is not what you need. So now, you need to go and make a thing on your own. You’ll go tomorrow, and if you refuse, know that this house will never be yours and then… and then.-…”

But before she continued, she realized suddenly something.

He had fallen asleep. She sighed, relieved. He was in the house, really, for another night! He had not been able to stop her with an ending she could not refute! So, certainly, he would stay?

She waited a few minutes, counting each one of his breaths. Almost tentatively, she took a step closer and put her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes.

When she woke up, she was laying on the couch, his vest on her shoulder. She took the cloth and smelled it contently.

It was no dream. He had been there, with her.

When she heard the door of the entrance opening, that’s when she realized. She raised up abruptly and ran towards it. Her pulse raced with the fear of Rhett leaving again.

“What are you doing?” She asked, disheveled, when she finally reached him.

He answered her in a detached way, his eyes distant. The suitcase was back in his hand.

“Leaving.“

“You haven’t guessed the end of the story.”

He turned towards her with a blank face, and she had the impression he was about to recite a lesson, just like Wade tended to do when it came to poetry.

“It does not matter. I’ve decided to leave, and the train comes at…”

“Are you a coward?” She taunted, trying to distract him from the tears that were about to fall from her eyes. “Or is Rhett Butler, infamous blockade runner, incapable of guessing one simple little story that I, a woman with few imagination, ended up telling?”

His face was one of apparent fury as she said it, but she also saw another thing that made her perplexed. Like… anticipation? Fear? Fear from what?

But then, before she even tried to think about it (and tried to control the fire burning in her belly from the warmth of his glare), he said these words and climbed eagerly the stairs:

“Go on, woman. You have your other night. And you’ll see I’m not someone you can play for a fool so long!”

She heard his door clapping, leaving her unsure a moment, before she concentrated on the facts.

He was still here. He would stay until tonight. And she was determined there would be other nights.


	2. Chapter 2

She was giddy, simply excited.

She was going to get Rhett back, she just knew it. He may not admit it, but he still cared, he may even love her again. They were both such prideful creatures that they would both fight to have the last word. But they cared, nothing was lost!

He had said he would leave early to intend to business and would come to supper. He would come, oh he would come!

Oh, yes, he had still that unsufferable smile, and she could still see he was annoyed at having to stay a longer time. But he was there, still! Certainly it had to mean something.

Her heart was already beating with all the anticipation.

“Ella, would you come with Mother at the store?” She asked joyfully when she met the children for the lunch.

Surprisingly, she found out bringing her children once in a while at said place had a way of softening the old peahens of the Guard. Sure, they talked about how improper it was. But yet, no one dared to gossip about her love for the children at that moment, especially when she took time to lament how she could not bear leaving them alone at the house when there was no school that day. She realized they brought up a lightness in the store, that hadn’t quite been here before. Especially when came Christmas, and the view of children playing quietly at the back not only attracted others, but also their parents who found it quite convenient to leave them play with one another to look after some articles on their own.

Children. She should have thought so, before. With children at her side, people were less inclined to object too harshly, though negotiate they did try. People were calmer, and it appealed to their tenderer side.

The girl nodded enthusiastically, asking already about the new toys that had been delivered the day before.

“And you, Wade? Are you coming?”

“Beau is waiting for me to try his new ship.”

“Will you bring yours?”

His eyes brightened. “May I, Mother? But… what if I break it?”

It costed her to answer anything but a usual snappish reply about how he should care more about his things, but still, she knew she had to do this. She had put on her mind to be a better mother, and she certainly would not fail now.

“… Then you’ll have another. Though I wouldn’t…”

His eyes widened with such happy glint she felt her heart squeeze. Suddenly, she felt as if she knew that light, but her mind refused to give out the information. It felt painful, and yet she felt the longing of it. She blinked, surprised, and then the moment was gone.

“Thank you Mother.”

“You’re… welcome.”

And with such a tender instant she had not hoped for, the meal was finished and she asked Prissy to help Ella and Wade to clean up and dress.

Soon, she would need to prepare a room for Wade, she thought as she called Pansy for her.

Today, she wore once again a black dress, and she knew it would have surprised Rhett to know that it was still the case. But it was not only for mourning. It was also because she mostly felt the lack of color reflected her state of mind and her unwillingness to dress prettily when she felt not the envy to do so. She waited for the day Rhett would notice it, but it had not come.

Yet today, in her hopeful spirit, she decided to take her green little umbrella. Once, Rhett had told her that in New Orleans that it was believed that bringing an umbrella would prevent the rain. She chuckled at the memory.

Satisfied with the result, she went down, kissed Wade before he was escorted at the Wilkes, and collected Ella. She hummed lightly, the girl’s tiny hand warm in hers as they went towards the buggy. She helped her get into it and gestured Pork that they could go.

She let the little girl talk about every little thing she hoped to find in the store, and let her eyes wander in the streets, wondering for once what could be their preoccupations of the day.

“You’ve heard it, Mrs Meade. Captain Butler is back.”

She froze.

“Not for long, I believe. And certainly not always at his home.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ve heard from a reliable source that he was at that Belle Watling’s house this morning…”

And just like that, Scarlett’s bubble was broken, and the haze of the day fell upon her shoulders like a hammer.

She made Pork slow the buggy down, and coldly nodded towards the two old women who were walking down the street.

“Good day to you Mrs Meade. Mrs Merriwether.”

She did not get any answer, but she wasn’t expecting some too.

Then she asked for Pork to continue, her hand squeezing more her daughter’s.

She had been going, day after day, trying to act as if nothing happened. But then… There were words she could not escape.

As long as Rhett is here and the United States government hold out …

Rhett was here. For the moment. Until he’d finally figure out that she had no proper ending. Or that she finds herself incapable to continue it.

The year had been hard enough. But without Rhett… It would be unbearable.

Once they opened the door of the store, she showed Ella the back of it, where the toys were kept, and asked Charlie to look after her while she talked to Hugh.

“Hugh,” She called. “Have you made the inventory?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I checked it twice and put the list in your office.”

“Good. We will need to select the most essential products for the next delivery. Last time I checked, some were lacking. Furthermore, we need to expand our customer base.”

“But… Mrs Butler. How are we going to attract new customers? Some are already leaving the town, hoping to find something cheaper. And the other Southerners… well….”

“… Many will hesitate to come, is that what you say? Well, I’ll think about it. Tell Ryan to put the ribbons at the back and the shawls at the front. In two days now, the last was looked for more than the first.”

India had seemed to have stopped her attacks on her fortunately, and if she had to guess, she would say that Melly’s last wishes were certainly more the cause of that that a spontaneous change of heart. As for Mrs Meade and Mrs Merriwhether… Well, this morning was still a proof that her affairs were still one of their favorite subject.

She went to the counter and observed the account books.

She counted the money once again, her hands almost shaking. She would need to convert it to gold soon.

She cursed herself once again for having invested in the railroads and at this shameful thought, she was tempted to get all her money out of the bank and hide it somewhere safe.

As long as he was here…

Would it be enough? She thought with distraction. Would his return completely ease her worries and make it all alright? Somehow, she could not dare believing it entirely. Especially now she had few doubts about his whereabouts in Atlanta.

She tried to shrug it off. But then it was something that had always been. This woman’s shadow between them, quite not so present as Ashley’s had been, but still perceivable. And she began to realize that even without them, Rhett’s presence wasn’t guaranteed even to honor that gamble of hers.

Just as she was about to finish and collect Ella, the door of the store opened on a person she had not expected.

“Scarlett!”

She blinked a moment, surprised by his apparition at the store, then nodded towards him, hoping putting some distance towards them would make him go away.

“Ashley.”

He did not seem to notice, though.

“It’s been a long time…” He began. “I almost thought you were hiding from me.”

Not precisely hiding from him. Hiding from India. Hiding from Pittypat. Anything that would make her remember of Melly, and how she failed her.

“Wade told me he was going to see Beau,” She finally said.

“And so he is, I believe. India is keeping them occupied.”

“And you? What brings you in my humble store?”

He seemed uneasy with such sarcasm in her voice, and she berated herself. True, finding him here quite unsettled her, for she knew the old pea-hens were still lurking in the corners, trying to find faults in her conduct. And Rhett was in Atlanta. What would he think about it?

Would he care?

The answer was too obvious for her, especially with what she knew.

“Mother!” She heard suddenly the voice of Ella coming towards her. “Look what I’ve found at the back!”

It was a porcelain doll, one of the many that had been delivered this week, with curled light ginger hair and green eyes. It made her think somehow at Ella when she saw it, but yet, she found out the majority of them had not been handled with care and were thus unsellable.

“Oh, a doll!” Ashley exclaimed with a cheerfulness that seemed forced on him. “Melly would have loved it. Melly loved such sweet, dear things. Sadly, there’s a hole in the chest.”

“Yes, that’s why I intended to…”

“Repair it? Oh, what a great idea, my dear!” He exclaimed before she could continue. “You are much more like Melly than you think you are.”

_She’s never had anything but a heart…_

She shook her head.

“No, I’m not!” She protested “I can’t compare to Melly. No one can.”

She saw the way he looked at her. A distant gaze, bright and so nostalgic.

“Oh, Ashley. Don’t do that. You’re still living in the past. Melly would not have wanted that. You have Beau. You have India, and Aunt Pittypat. And I am still your friend.”

“Are you still?”

She winced a little, but he did not seem to notice.

“Of course I am.”

“Would it be wrong of me to presume to visit you tomorrow?” He relented, an almost desperate light in his eyes. “I so need someone to talk about her, and she loved you so.”

“I… don’t think it is a good idea, Ashley. You know it would be talked about. If it’s not already.” Hoping to ease the tension, she turned towards her daughter. “Ella, would you put that doll in my office? I will take care of it when I have the time. Then, I would like you to do some drawings for me”

The girl nodded eagerly and went away, the doll firmly squeezed in her arms.

That was one problem less, she thought, as she turned back towards Ashley.

“How are the mills?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh, Ashley!” She scolded softly. “I always thought you would sell them. You never were quite interested in it. It actually surprised me you bought them…”

She stopped herself before she revealed her suspicions about Rhett’s implication in all of this.

“Melly wanted Beau to have it, so…”

She sighed.

“Do you want me to look at your books?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Send them to me as soon as you can.”

“I’ll do.”

She nodded, and after some time, he finally stopped his pretense at looking the counter.

“I’ve heard your husband is in Atlanta,” Ashley remarked with an appearance of nonchalance that did not even fool her. “Did he say how long?”

“Ashley! I’m surprised of you!”

“I’m just concerned. You are my friend, aren’t you? And these rumors…”

“Yes. But I do believe what happens between my husband and I only concerns the both of us.”

Her tone was surprisingly icy, and she knew it hurt him. But she couldn’t find in herself to regret it, though she knew Melly would not have liked this.

“Alright,” Ashley finally said, struggling with his words. “Know that I’ll be here for you. If you want to talk.”

His hand was on the counter. She stared at it, before he took it back.

‘Thank you, Ashley. That’s very kind. But I don’t think it will be needed.”

“You’ve always been very dear to me. I still remember that little Belle that would listen to my readings at Twelve Oaks.”

“You know I did not actually pay attention to that!” She could not help but smile at the memory. “I was so young and ignorant.”

“You’re still young.”

“How you do run on, Ashley!” She could not help but reply, her former mimics suddenly coming back to her, to hide the pain she really felt.

She berated herself. If she was trying to get Rhett back in her life, being over-friendly to Ashley was certainly not the way to do so, she realized.

“I’m not the same as I was before.”

“I know.”

If she had looked at it closely, and not thought of Rhett at that moment, she may perhaps have seen the glitter of bitterness in Ashley’s eyes. But never one to ask herself questions about a subject that did not interest her anymore, she may not have thought anything of it if she had.

Instead, she stared at a distance, wondering if her troubles were ever going to end.

“I believe you should go,” She said softly. “It is no use to revisit the past. Nothing can be done with it.”

And he did, after a time. She went to her office with the account books and worked on it for a while, taking small breaks to check Ella’s drawings.

Supper was already served when they came back.

“Hello my dear,” Her husband’s ironic salutation came to her as they entered the dining room. “You’re quite late, today.”

“I had a lot of work. Well, hadn’t we, Ella?”

The little girl nodded seriously.

Wade was silent, even as she tried to make him talk about his afternoon with Beau. Ella was not like that though, and for a moment it seemed it was enough to appease the uneasiness of it all. She ignored Rhett’s raise of eyebrows as she tried to eat the content of her plate with as much enthusiasm she could gather.

He had always said he knew something was going on, just looking at her face. Or at her appetite on the moment. She would certainly not do the error of showing him she was in difficulty.

Once the meal was over, she escorted with Prissy Wade and Ella, and kissed them good night. Ella seemed disappointed not to have a story, and she felt Wade was too. But he didn’t ask. She wondered a moment if that disappointment was one of too many, that would put down every effort she had made.

When she was down, Rhett was waiting for her with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, and he escorted her to the study. His face had that mocking expression he had when she had done something foolish, so she prepared for the worst.

“So…I’ve heard the Honorable Ashley Wilkes visited you,” He remarked nonchalantly as he closed the door behind them.

She sat deeply on the couch, letting her head rest heavily on it.

“Don’t be mean, Rhett. You must know I’ve barely seen him in the year,” She sighed. “He’s so hopeless.”

“That’s a surprise,” He replied as he joined her. “You look as if he made you hold all the books of his library on your back.”

“Actually, he asked me to see the books of the mills.”

“Among other things, I believe.”

“Rhett!” She protested. “How can you say such thing? Melly…”

“… Has conveniently put you in charge of him. So what are you waiting for?”

“You know what I’m waiting for. And it has nothing to do with Ashley.”

“You’ve always wanted what you can’t have.”

“Have I, indeed? Then why are you still here?”

“You know why. Because I want to get the divorce done, and you seem to believe you can trap me with your stories. You know I can’t help it when it comes to you. I always like to prove you wrong.”

“You do, indeed,” She dusted her dress in a sharper way she intended. “Your arrogance knows no limits.”

“I do think it’s flattering you proclaim to have moved your affections from poor Mr Wilkes to me though. I wonder how long you will continue.”

She huffed, irritated.

“You know it’s nothing like that. You know that what I loved about Ashley was not Ashley himself. I loved what I thought he was. But you? I can’t imagine something that isn’t here. I love you, and I know you. I may not have seen it before, but I do. And now that I know it, there’s no way I want to keep it hidden. You can use that love against me for all I care. God knows you’ve been using many things against me since we’ve met. But don’t even suggest it does not exist. And I am not afraid.”

He sighed.

“You’re such a child. You’ve never known when to stop,” He sat deeper into the couch, his arms rising to grip the upper side of it. She felt his warmth, and his scent of horses, alcohol and cigars. “Keep up that masquerade then, darling. You’ll see this game will soon be over.”

“If you think so,” She paused, before suddenly deciding to confront him, tired of the tensions and the conflicts. “Oh, Rhett. I know you don’t love me,” She shook her head, trying to shut that little voice up who kept begging to ask him: ‘Oh, don’t you, really?’. “I’ll be a fool not to know it, when you told me time and time again. But… We’ve been friends once. Can’t we be friends again? … at least until this story ends?”

Seeing that he was not answering yet, she continued, hoping filling the silence between them would diminish her anguish.

“You know, I’ve always missed it. The discussions we would have, whether it was about the mills, the fashions, or even politics…”

“I don’t seem to recall you agreeing with me in most of these subjects, dear. That monster of a house is quite the proof of it.”

She laughed lightly.

“We were never very agreeable persons, weren’t we? And yet, you let me do what I wanted.”

“God helps the one who tries to stop you when you’re decided to do something.”

“You could have made me stop,” She remarked softly. “I never knew I could make you do anything you didn’t want.”

“I couldn’t refuse you my dear,” He replied, his eyes still gazing in front of him with that little mocking flame. “I was quite the fool at that time.”

She did not answer it. How could she? It was raising too many questions she did not want to have any answer on.

She’d think of that another day.

“I’ll consider it, pet.” He said finally, breaking the silence. “But you know there’s too many things, too many words between us for it to be like before. And I’m not one to be trapped a long time. Friendship or not.”

“I know,” She said softly.

But it did not ease the tension between them, all the ghosts that set them apart.

“You know, I…”

He sighed, taking a sip of whiskey.

“I know, pet.”

“Rhett…” She could not help but say, the nearness of the date weighting on her heart. “Soon, it will be…”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” His answer was abrupt and rough. Once she would have exulted in knowing what she had said had an effect on him. But now… it touched her heart too. “Well, I believe we have some papers to sign, after I reveal what terrible ending you might have imagined. What was it in your story? A girl that was about to leave home after a little infatuation with the neighbor’s son, her father the king telling her he fought a giant to make him go to battle…”

She widened her eyes in surprise.

“After all this time, you still manage…” She stopped. Her obvious admiration would make his head bigger than it already was, she thought. “I thought you had been asleep at that time.”

“I’ve _managed_ to get the end of things. I’m not quite so old not to pay attention, Scarlett.”

“I certainly never really thought about your age, Rhett.”

“Oh, really?”

“Alright, maybe once. It was the day we met,” She said coquettishly, batting her eyes. Suddenly, she felt uneasy in front of Rhett. A lightness that was slowly disappearing. She decided to change the subject. She needed to get a hold of herself, she thought, irritated. “Well. In fact, there’s some tiny little detail you got wrong.”

“And what was it?”

“It wasn’t an infatuation she felt.”

She felt it was once again the wrong way to go. But still, the words continued to flow from her mouth, and she was powerless to stop them.

“My bad. It was ‘She thought she found… something.’”

“Something doesn’t mean it is necessary…”

“Indeed.”

She fidgeted a little.

“Well, here we were, then.”

She closed her eyes one moment and could not help but pray.

_Oh, Father. I wish you were here. You always knew how to tell the story better than everyone. How would you have managed it? And Mother? How would you have done it?_

After a pause, she began.

“After her encounter with her father, it was Solene’s Mother who came to her.

“’Daughter,’ She said. ‘I know what your father told you, and I approve of it, despite the fact that I believe it had been done too early. But I know also of that void that you have, because I have the same too. It is my fault, for it is something I could not give to you. Nor to anyone.’

“’What is it I am missing, Mother?’ Solene asked.

“‘A full heart, my darling,’ The queen answered, and she had the saddest light in her eyes. ‘Mine had been lost in the ocean long ago. Since then, my life is dull, without charms. Pain and regret are all that I can feel.’

“’But, Mother, I have a heart,’ The daughter protested. ‘It is beating, I can hear it. When I’m angry, it squeeze quite tightly, and when I’m surprised, it stops just a little.’

“‘This part, your father gave it to you. This makes you feel little bits of happiness, but you will never feel complete. Never will you know the passion of one deep love, nor the agony of betrayal. They will all come to you as strange and foreign things, but they won’t burn you. ’

“‘Then I’ll find your heart, Mother! Tell me how you lost it, so I can find a way to retrieve it!’

“The queen only shook her head. ‘It is not for you to find, daughter. It is a thing you have to live with. But if you insist, I will tell you the story of my loss. Once, I was a little girl, full of life and spirit. I had a mother and a father, both loved me so very much. I enjoyed everything in the world, from the tiniest seed of lily to the sky all above. And then I met him. The love of my life.’

“‘Father?’

“‘No, my sweet, I’m sorry to say it wasn’t. It was Pierre, the knight who, as I grew up, was charged with my protection. We both fell in love that day and promised ourselves to each other. I gave him my whole heart when he decided to go in an adventure to prove himself to my parents.’

“Oh, so that gentleman did not give his heart in return?”

“Shush Rhett. Maybe he did not have time. He was killed by the pirate king on the way, and the heart of the mother was lost in the ocean.”

“Oh, I already love that one. What’s his name, dear?”

“Robert.”

He chuckled. “well, I should have known. He must be very handsome and fearsome, that pirate of yours.”

“He was also very conceited. But his story is irrelevant.”

“Oh dear, if you think you hurt me by doing that, you’re gravely mistaken. It only amuses me how very… literal you can be.”

“Insult me all you want, that won’t give you the end of the story,” she retorted, before continuing.

““So this is my story, the bits I feel free to tell you. I hope it will help you coming to terms with what you are on your journey,” The mother said, before finally giving her three precious stones, one diamond, one emerald and one onyx. “Go, Solene. Take these three stones, for you will need it. You’ll have to throw them at your feet when you use it. One will give you light when the darkness is surrounding you. One will make trouble, for in trouble you may find a way to escape. One will set you free, when life becomes too much of a burden for you.’

“Why would a mother give her daughter such thing?”

“Does that mean that story is too complicated for you?”

“Quite simple, in fact. But I wonder where you find it in you to make such metaphors.”

“Such what?”

He laughed.

“I should have known. It is I who complicate the story. But do go on.”

“If you think so…” She replied, unsure, before continuing.

“’Don’t you have something for me, Father?’ Solene asked. ‘A little money so that I can buy what I need on my way?”

“‘When I was your age, my lass, I had no money on me. I had to make do with what I had. It’s what made me strong, it’s what made me cunning.’

“Hearing that, she realized she would have to go on her own, truly. What am I going to do? She thought. Where shall I go?...

She stopped, trying to control the shiver in her voice. She dared not look at Rhett, not wanting to see that indifferent stare she was so used to.

She squared her shoulders and continued.

“‘And when shall I come back?’ She finally said to her father.

“‘Once you’ll find in your heart that you have travelled enough and that you’ve buried the third stone, girl. That’s when finally you’ll go home to us. But you may find it to be too late, my lass.’

“Solene was tempted to say her heart was not full, so how could she know anything about it? But then, it would have been to admit her mother’s secret and breaking her father’s heart on the process.”

“Strangely thoughtful, this girl,” Rhett commented. “In such a situation.”

She knew if she payed more attention, she would feel the sting of irony in his sentence. So she let it slide, and continued.

“Not really. Her father had given her a part of his heart, so by breaking his, she would be breaking hers in return.”

Rhett’s white teeth appeared mockingly beneath these full lips of his.

“Well, I do still believe one of the gentlemen she met will somehow manage to get the other part of her heart, and that of the mother.”

“Wrong.”

“I had to try,” He said pleasantly. Then she felt him lean down on the couch, his expression inscrutable. “Or… is she going to die because of the stones?”

Scarlett stopped, unsure. Would she even consider such a thing?

To her surprise, she realized that she did, actually.

She was tired, so tired.

“No, because that would be quite a terrible ending, I believe. Quite overdramatic and improper, even for a tale like yours, my dear.”

“She’s not going to die because of it, Rhett,”

She thought she heard him release a breath suddenly.

“I may not be a lady, but at least I know a main character who die does not make for a wholly satisfying ending.”

“Oh, so you’re hoping for a happy ending, then?”

She looked at him closely, trying to see if he was serious about it. And especially… If he was talking of the story, or of them.

Finding no answer, she turned back.

“No Rhett,” She said wearily. “I won’t make it easy for you.”

“You never did.”

“It seemed we had that in common.”

She hated herself for that hint of bitterness in her voice. She was trying to make it right. Make them remember the errors of the past was not the way.

What was happening to her? She wandered.

Was it because of Ashley? When he talked of Melly, of broken dolls and broken memories?

The fool had always brought back the past for her, even when she did not want any part in it. And yet, somehow, she knew he was part of her folk, now. Melly had made her promise.

Was that because of Belle? She had known. She had always known.

Could it be something else?

She did not realize she was squaring her shoulders, as if going to a battle.

“Scarlett… Are you alright?”

She smiled at him, nodded, hoping to convince him (and visibly failing), and then decided to continue.

“Solene had nothing, but the three stones. Nothing to eat, nothing to hope. What if she used the three stones at the same time? Somehow, she thought it was a bad idea. But the idea of leaving everything she knew was unbearable, even for someone with half a heart like her.

“So she went away and walked for a long time, with only her dress of the day on her and the confidence in herself that many happy days had given her. But when the night came, she was cold and hungry, so she stopped near a lake where a fisherman was putting away his tools. Looking at her, he saw she came from a wealthy family, but he could also see that she was alone and without money. Curious, he asked her about her story and she told him.”

“She’s pretty naïve,” commented Rhett. “He will certainly use it against her.”

“Not everyone is like you, Rhett,” She retorted. “Or like me.”

He chuckled. She continued.

“The fisherman said to her:

“”Listen to me girl, I’ll only give you shelter if you listen to my story and help me with it...’

They were however interrupted by a knock on the door, and Ella opening it, her eyes puffy and tears almost frozen on her cheek.

“Mother?” She hesitated, her little mouth almost trembling. “I had a nightmare. Can I…?”

She saw Rhett was surprised by the spontaneity of little Ella, her arms reaching out for her mother, at the moment an image so vivid of another little girl, gone to them forever.

She took her daughter in her arms, wondering if by doing so, she would lose that brief, companionable moment she had with Rhett.

But yet, how can she let her cry so?

She was damned if she didn’t, damned if she did.

“Rhett?” She asked, not knowing if she really wanted the answer to her question.

She heard him sigh.

“I believe it’s over for tonight, Scarlett. We will continue tomorrow.”

Her body shook a little at this, but she managed to whisper to Ella to wait for her in her room.

“Oh, and… Scarlett?” He called her. “I know you still worry about the money. But you will need to trust what I say. And I say I made sure your parts were safe.”

She felt touched he was actually aware of her anxiety over such issue. For once, she saw no mockery, only a kindness she was willing to accept gratefully. She embraced him. He froze, and never put his arms around her. But she knew better than to expect it. It was enough now.

His concerns would not be enough to completely erase it, but she knew at least it was something.

Before she even dared letting her head rest on his chest, thus hearing the beating of his heart and getting lost with its possible meaning, she took her step back, and let her arms fall at her side.

Her eyes glistening, she raised her head towards him, whispering a soft “Thank you”.

“You won’t ask me what I did with them?”

“I trust you.”

“Wrong choice.”

She only smiled, before turning back towards her room.

“Goodnight, Rhett.”

“Goodnight…”

She counted the steps on the corridors and felt relieved when she realized it was just the number enough to go to his room. She waited some moments more, then went to bed, at the demand of her daughter who was tapping her side of the bed.

When she woke up, Ella was gone and she tried to make her way slowly to the kitchen, her shawl around her, a poor attempt to keep the cold disappointment she couldn’t help but fear. She made small steps, hoping to make the way longer, but her ears were too alert for her to simply do as if she wasn’t nervous.

Then, she released a breath of air.

There were talks in the parlor. Ella’s voice, and one so, so dear.

Rhett was still here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the ones who gave me kudos! I really appreciate it!


	3. Chapter 3

“And then there was this most beautiful doll, with ginger hair and green eyes, just like me…”

“Oh, really?”

Rhett’s drawling voice rang at her ears like the purrs of a big contented cat, and Scarlett found herself enjoying the soothing effect it had on her heart. That and the delicious smell of croissants in the morning. She felt it was going to be a good day.

‘’… And there were so many things on the shelves. And, and, oh, Charlie had been so nice, letting me draw on his papers! Weren’t they nice, Mother?”

“Yes, they were, darling,” Scarlett replied in an absent-minded way.

“And then there was this big, black crow looking behind the window of Mother’s office, but I knew it would not enter, because Mother was here.”

“You’re right. Your mother would scare away any crow she’d meet.”

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett!”

“Oh, Mother could, indeed! She is the strongest person I know, she…”

Scarlett’s eyes widened. She had been about to react to Rhett’s provocation, but Ella’s answer had amazed her. All that confidence in her touched her in a way she was not used to, but it made her question herself too. Ella continued chattering away, going from one subject to another joyfully.

She looked at the little girl, soon to be eight. All the tiny details, such as her eyes, too little on her face, these ears that were too low, her short nose, these thin lips and receding chin. No, Ella wasn’t pretty, and Scarlett doubted it could be arranged with time. For a moment, Scarlett almost blamed herself for that, wondering if her recklessness during the pregnancy had had a lingering effect on the child.

She shook her head. Well, it was no use to think of it, she thought. The answer would certainly not please her. She’d better think of this another time. Tomorrow, maybe…

In an absent-minded way, she ruffled her daughter’s hair, tucking one lock of it behind her ear. Ella stopped talking, as if bewildered, and for one moment Scarlett realized with dismay she might cry.

“Why, Ella,” She said, feeling the nervousness of the little girl overwhelming her. “You shouldn’t have such frown on your face. You’d be lovelier without it. Smile a little for me, would you?”

Ella’s upper lip trembled a little and her eyes were frustratingly mobile as they lay on her. Then, the mouth opened wide, showing a smile lacking some teeth.

Relieved, Scarlett answered her smile with one of her own and caressed her daughter’s cheek.

“Now that’s a beautiful smile.”

Scarlett’s head snapped towards Rhett’s direction. He cleared his throat, and seeing his indifferent expression, she realized he meant nothing by it. He was certainly talking about Ella anyway. Or at least he would say so, just to spite her.

She opened her mouth, closed it. Then, from the corner of her vision, she saw a little silhouette on a corner, visibly hesitant.

“Why, good morning, Wade!” She greeted her son enthusiastically, happy for the diversion. “Why don’t you take a seat?”

The boy nodded silently, glancing a little at Rhett, before staring at his mother. Scarlett blinked. He sat down and began to eat his plate.

“What are you going to do today, son?”

Wade stared at him. Rhett raised his eyebrows, visibly perplexed.

“I thought I heard you wanted to go fishing,” Scarlett intervened suddenly, her voice a little higher than needed. “Hadn’t you asked Beau to accompany you?”

“Yes, Mother.”

The boy nodded silently and looked down at his plate.

“Pork will accompany you, is that it?” Rhett continued.

“Yes.”

“Well, I would have accompanied you, but you know, little man. I have some urgent matters to see today.”

“Yes.”

“Wade,” Scarlett began with a warning voice.

“Scarlett, don’t,” Rhett sighed. “It’s alright. I see we’ll need to talk soon. Well, I hope you will have a good day.”

“Rhett…” Scarlett called as he raised up. There was no sign of dejection on his face, but she still felt it for him. Yet, she restrained herself from saying more about it. “Will you be there for supper?”

He smirked. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

And he went, his breakfast swiftly put away by Prissy, who almost managed to make it all fall. Scarlett turned towards her son. He ate silently, but she could see his hands fidgeting.

“Wade…” Scarlett scowled. “What was that all about?”

Charles Hamilton’s son turned his eyes towards her, but they lacked the softness of his father’s at the moment. Scarlett blinked, surprised.

“Mother,” He began. “Do you know how long Uncle Rhett will stay?”

She froze. Just how much of what was happening he was aware? She wondered. What was he feeling about it? How could she make him understand? She couldn’t just tell him to mind his business, like she would certainly have years before.

The question by itself was torturing, for she certainly had no answer. The acceptable reply would certainly have been to tell some lie, and said he intended to stay for a long time, and that with a smile. But Scarlett did not find in herself to do it, not even for her.

“No… I don’t,” she sighed. “But that doesn’t resolve the issue, does it?”

The young boy proceeded the answer intently, then nodded.

“I’ll be nice, Mother.”

Scarlett bit back a remark and surprised herself by her restrain. But she still felt ill-at-ease with her son’s reserve.

Oh, if only Mammy was here. Or Melly. Melly would know what to do. Melly would certainly manage to put a smile on him, to make him talk.

She watched him finish his breakfast, undecided. Would hugging him help? That’s certainly what Melly would have done. And yet, she felt certain that from her part, Wade was more at ease when he initiated the contact.

Or maybe it was just her.

All in her observation, she almost missed when Wade finished eating. He stood up and went to her, taking her by surprise by kissing her cheek. Then he turned away quickly, and she wondered if he was afraid of her reaction.

“Wade!” She called as he was about to leave. “Have fun with Beau.”

The boy looked at her, surprised, then smiled.

“I will, Mother.”

She nodded numbly, that little gesture and the warm effect it had on her bewildered her.

She cleared her throat and turned towards her youngest, who was still toying with her pastry.

“Ella… Isn’t it today your dance teacher will come?”

“Yes, it is!” She joyfully answered. “Will you be there to watch me, Mother?”

At that moment she looked so much like Bonnie that it hurt. The exact same expectant expression on her face.

“I can’t today, sweet-heart. But maybe you could show me later.”

Ella nodded eagerly and went to kiss her mother with a so exaggerated sound of smacking that she giggled.

“Now, now, sweet, go find Dilcey. She must be waiting for you.”

Well, she thought as she saw the young girl leaving the scene joyfully. Maybe it wasn’t that hard, being a mother. It had its pleasant moments.

She called Pansy to help her dress and began her day. She almost took her pink pouch.

She had still many things to do with the store. She had to make sure the mules were changed and verify the labels. Not to mention the eternal checking of the account books.

She might have missed something, who knew?

She was proud to say that her employees were quite disciplined now. But after all, they knew she wouldn’t be very lenient if they weren’t. Some lacked still that little something that made a sale easier to be made, but well, she’d think of that another day. She couldn’t be behind them at every moment.

Even if sometimes she wished she were.

She sighed at the last labeling of the very last ribbon, then went to her office.

She looked one page. Then another.

Ella’s doll was still on her desk, and she remembered her enthusiasm for it. She took it, examining the damages more closely. Somehow, seeing the hole in the chest made her sad, and the rest of it looked quite pathetic. The dress was a dull green, and she could see the fabric was already worn out. 

“Scarlett O’Hara! I know you are there!”

She jumped, surprised by the cry. She put down the doll and left her office.

“God’s nightgown, what is happening? Hugh?”

“It’s this woman, this Mrs Watling,” Her manager replied. “She is calling for you.”

“In the store? Is she mad?” Hugh shrugged as Scarlett seethed in sudden rage. “Why had nobody shown her the exit?”

“She’s creating havoc.”

“Oh great. As if I need more scandal to make this place work,” She muttered angrily as she went at the counter, where Charlie was stumbling over his words.

There she was. The other woman. And what a woman, Scarlett thought with spite. Tainted red hair, flashy dress that was almost an affront, even to her love of colors. How dared she? Hadn’t it been enough for her to be a shadow in her marriage and to have sometimes passed in front of her store with pity on her painted face?

She would not be pitied by such person. She did not accept it from Rhett, so this woman could go to Halifax before she even considered it.

But it was not pity that Belle Watling sent at her when she noticed her. She looked downright furious, and so red that Scarlett didn’t know if it was the effect of anger or because an excess of rouge.

Thank God, she thought. At least I’ve gotten rid of it.

“I don’ know what you’re playing at with Rhett,” The woman snarled at her. “But you need to stop right now.”

“What happens between my husband and I are only our concerns, not yours, Mrs Watling.”

“Oh, Rhett’s a gambler, yes, and he’s fond of lost causes. You’ve been a poison in his veins for so long. But you won’t snare him into your nets again, Scarlett O’Hara!”

“It’s Scarlett Butler” She said with her head high, before muttering through her teeth. “And I am not fisherwoman. Even if I were, I doubt anybody could catch Rhett if he didn’t want to.”

“Not for long.”

Her hands clenched and she saw red. Oh, if only she could make her bleed. If only she could scratch that pale skin of hers…

She blinked. She had to be better than this. What would Melly do? She wondered.

Then she found it. A way to strike the woman while showing her superiority.

With a sweetened voice, she said:

“Melanie once told me that at least you were kind. Rhett did too. Where is that kindness, Mrs Watling?”

“You don’t deserve any,” She retorted “You’re not a lady. More like a poison. Let him go.”

“Hugh, escort this… woman outside…”

She was tempted to say “where she belongs”. But looking into these desperate eyes, suddenly it came to her how painfully similar they were. They were both businesswomen who had been supported by Rhett, both were rejected by a society that looked down on women being anything else than the perfect lady. Both had to do terrible things to survive and had lived on things that morality would never approve. And both were in love with him and wanted to keep him…

 _But at least she has a heart_ , she remembered Rhett saying.

Her jaw clenched at it as she fought back the humiliation, while Hugh was forcibly leading Belle Watling out of the store. At the door, the madam huffed, then straightened, before leaving with a head surprisingly high.

She realized the hypocrisy of all of this. Him, questioning her yesterday about a simple visit of Ashley that was barely polite, and his own visits to the woman who intruded in her store.

“There’s too many people in this relationship,” she muttered grumpily.

She dismissed Charlie with a snap and leaned on the counter.

Then finally, once she felt confident enough, she squared her shoulders.

“Are you alright, Missus?”

She jumped, then let out a breath of relief.

“Hugh…” She looked at the man who was at her side, and somehow it shocked her how weary and cautious he looked. She sighed. She needed no one else being frustrated with her today. “I’m glad you accepted to work with me at the store. We might not have agreed on the sawmills, but I see the value of a man like you. Especially on times like this.”

It hurt to continue. She was not used to say such things.

“I know I haven’t been always appreciative of your work… But thank you. If you want to take your afternoon…”

He looked at her as if she had grown another head. She raised an eyebrow, then sighed. And then people wondered why she couldn’t be nice!

Ella’s doll came in her mind.

“Never mind. Could you do something for me?” She gestured him to follow her to the office, then showed him the object. “Do you know someone who might know how to repair this doll quickly? My daughter seemed to have taken a fancy to this one in particular…”

Hugh blinked, taking the doll with his surprisingly thin hands. He observed it quietly.

“I don’t know personally, Ma’am. But I know my mother does.”

“Would you be kind enough to ask her about it?”

“She’s coming to bring me a meal in a bit, Mrs Butler. Maybe you could talk to her personally.”

With just that mention, her stomach protested. She blushed, but Hugh had the decency not to show he had noticed it.

She nodded, satisfied. And then realized. Mrs Elsing, one of the most talkative of the old cats. Damn. How could she endure it? She took the doll and waited nervously.

The old lady went right on time, a wicker basket on her arm. She stopped, surprised at seeing Scarlett, then huffed. The younger woman bit her lip.

“Mrs Elsing.”

“Mother,” Hugh began. “Mrs Butler would like to ask you something.”

“Mrs Elsing. I know we haven’t been in good terms for so long. And yet… Hugh told me you could help me,” Encouraged by the silence of the old lady, she continued. “See, my young daughter Ella has completely fallen in love with a doll from the store. Unfortunately, one part of the chest is broken, and the dress needs some mending…”

Was she doing too much? She thought irritated. It seemed today was the day when everyone wanted to make Scarlett O’Hara crawl and beg.

The eyes of that old pea-hen certainly seemed to imply this.

Well, at least she’d do that with all the dignity and pride she could gather.

“For Ella, Mrs Elsing. I ask this from a mother to another. Could you please find someone to repair it?”

Mrs Elsing stared at her a moment, as if suspicious, then took the doll from her son’s hands and nodded.

“For Ella Kennedy,” She said with defiance in her voice. “I’ll give the doll to the one who might repair it.”

Scarlett let out a relieved sigh.

“Thank you, Mrs Elsing. I’ll pay you greatly for this.”

“I don’t want your money.”

“Then I’ll tell you thank you all the same.”

The older woman blinked. Her eyes widened in wonder as an embarrassed blush appeared on her cheeks.

Scarlett was tempted to laugh. If she had known being decent to that pea-hen would actually make her look like a toad wanting to combust, she would have tried it earlier.

Both women saluted each other warily, and Scarlett returned at the office, taking care to take the file with the notes to verify with the books.

She looked at the money, wondering. She may need to save some, she thought. Just in case. Something outside a bank, just available to her alone. Just in case.

Her eyes wandered at the shelves at all the things that hadn’t found a rich and frivolous enough buyer to take interest in it, or things that were too damaged to be sold. Things that were supposed to be thrown away in a faraway future.

She bit her lip, stopping at one object in particular.

It was a tiny chest, long prized in her time by young girls who expected to keep their secrets well-guarded thanks to the lock. She had bought a few copies for the fantasy of it. The memory of a juvenile Belle who once liked to gather all the tiny tokens of her beaus in one place so she could watch them. Now it seemed there were not enough young girls who were that attracted to such a thing, she thought. She looked at it. She would need to change that lock, she thought. Just in case.

She put it down and tidied the desk. After giving other instructions to Hugh and Charlie, she left. She paid a visit to the manager of her saloon, then went home.

The snack was cold as she took it. It was late, she knew. Maybe the end of the afternoon. The children were certainly on their way to go home.

She sighed, asked for a cup of coffee and waited a little. She felt trapped in her dress and cursed herself from asking to be laced tightly. Her head ached as she recalled the events of the days.

She returned to her room and asked Pansy to help her with the corset. Then she settled on one of her slippery chairs, frustrated with herself. She closed her eyes a moment, but even sleep eluded her.

She sighed. She was tired, though.

She heard the joyful babbling of Ella in the corridors, followed by other steps. Wade must have come back too.

Supper time came, and she gave a few instructions. But Rhett was still not here.

She waited, until finally it was no use to hope for his arrival. The children were hungry too.

As she ate with them, Ella discussed her day, while Wade was deeply focused on his meal. Then, she surprised her by asking this:

“Mother, what were you doing last night with Uncle Rhett in the study?”

“I… was telling him a story.”

“A story? Can I hear it too?”

“I don’t think…”

“Oh, I so wish to hear it!”

“Alright then, I’ll tell you. But I have to warn you. It is not finished yet.”

She began telling then, and as she went on, she saw with satisfaction that Ella looked at her with wonder, and Wade had scooted closer to hear it.

As she arrived at the moment she had stopped for Rhett, she bid them goodnight. She followed them quietly at the nursery and looked at them a moment, before going down.

She so despairingly needed a nightcap.

She stopped, undecisive, looking at the stairs where she once fell and lost her baby. The first baby she had really wanted.

She would not lose what was building up between her children and her, she thought with determination.

“Scarlett…” She heard.

“What?” She snapped.

“Hey, sheathe your claws, little cat,” Rhett was smirking at her, his white teeth shining, leaning on the baluster. “I was just about to ask you if you were ready for joining me in the study.”

“Oh, right. Sorry about that,” She said absent-mindedly.

Rhett raised an eyebrow.

“Are you alright? Normally you would have remarked on me missing the supper.”

“Yes, I am,” She sighed. “Do you want us to quarrel?”

“Do you?”

“… Can you bring the brandy, please?”

He smirked and nodded, taking a step towards the piece of furniture to take the desire nectar.

She settled on the couch as he closed the door behind them. He soon joined her, and she was once again overwhelmed by his presence and the sensuous way he managed to sit, putting his arm on the upper side of it as if to mark his territory.

“So?”

With his mocking eyes, he was daring her to begin.

She shot him an exasperated look, then proceeded to take a glass.

“So where was I?”

He smirked at her, taking a rough voice with an accent that may have supposed to be Irish, but with his Charlestonian one felt so utterly wrong that she laughed at it.

”Listen to me girl, I’ll only give you shelter if you listen to my story and help me with it...’

“Oh, the exact same words.”

“I thought you didn’t remember.”

She batted her lashes.

“It’s always nice to know that someone is paying attention.”

He laughed.

“That still does not work, my dear.”

“Fair enough,” She dusted her skirt with a satisfied smile. At least they had avoided it. She cleared her throat and continued.

“’This is my story, girl. When I was a young boy, I always went fishing with my Pa, and he showed me how to catch all the creatures of the seas and the rivers. We travelled all around the world just to have a taste at each of them, from the tiniest of sardine to the big blue whale. My Pa’s love was the sea, but I’m more of a man of the rivers and lakes. I like having my feet on the land, feeling the mud under my feet…’

“That’s a rather particular detail. Any reference to your own childhood, my pet?”

She only smiled smugly.

“I have to admit I’ve always liked the red clay of Tara pretty much after it rained.”

He smiled. “I’d gather so.”

“Mammy would scold me so!” She recalled with mirth, before mimicking the big, warm voice of her Mammy. “’Ma lam’, it ain’t fittin’!’”

She froze, her expression turning melancholic. How she missed her. How she needed her guidance…

Last time, she seemed so sick, and yet… She urged her to come back to Atlanta…

She blinked, not wanting to cry in front of Rhett, before returning to the story. She straightened, and in all her concentration missed the gesture he was about to make towards her.

“Well… ‘I like the mud under my feet. But you know, the rivers and lakes after some time offered no challenge for me. Until I saw this fish. The most beautiful and slippery thing I have ever encountered, and I’m sure it will be a great trophy once I bring it home. I knew I had to have it, and for that, I tried everything my father told me. But it won’t work. Every time, the fish manages to escape, and I don’t know what to do anymore. It had become an obsession. I can’t eat anymore. I can’t sleep. This infuriating fish is nagging me night and day.’

“‘So why don’t you give it up?’ Solene asked.

“’Well that would be too easy. That would be the most unsatisfying thing ever.’

“After that, the fisherman proceeded to show Solene all of his tools.

“’But your hooks are too big and sharp, mister, they are too noticeable,” she remarked. “And how do you want a fish to go into your nets or bite your hooks if there’s nothing to attract it there?”

“I see what you’re doing out there,” Rhett’s eyes glimmered mischievously. “And I seem to remember my hooks were not quite so displeasing, as there were pretty baits on it, eh, my pretty fish...?”

“Who said anything about you? I never knew you were an expert at fishing,” He laughed at that. She could not help but smile too. “The fisherman listened to Solene in part and added some baits. But the hooks were still too large, and Solene remarked that even if the baits were shiny, the fish could not eat them. As the day went on, there was nothing, and he realized at the end the baits were gone.’

“‘It’s still not good, lass,’

“’Oh, but mister,’ She replied. ‘what’s on the hook. It may have taken your baits for now but look at the blood. You’ve hurt the poor thing. Now it might never come back.’”

“Oh, it will,” Rhett commented. “Most fishes are like that. They can’t resist the baits.”

There was a sort of bitter resignation in that sentence that offended her.

“How you do run on. Well, master of fishes, let’s continue. The days after, the fisherman did not listen. Twice the baits were taken, and blood appeared on the hooks, and the day after that, the fisherman finally had something.’”

“Well, I told you so.”

“It was not the right fish.”

“… You changed the story to prove me wrong, right?”

She bit her lip, vexed. She could certainly not admit so.

“Absolutely not. If you really consider the story, you might actually notice that the fisherman was never meant to succeed,” She retorted, before realizing she felt sad for the character of her own story. Wasn’t she the one, trying to catch him when he didn’t want to? “The fisherman became angry at Solene, and thought it was her fault. So he asked her to leave.”

Somehow, she realized that her answer had brought some kind of tension in the room, and she wondered at it. Rhett was frowning, and his back was straightening.

She continued, hoping to clear it.

“She followed the contour of the lake, and found it led to a river. Exhausted, she decided to rest a little near it. Until finally she saw it. It was the fish. It was bleeding through and through, but it was still dancing joyfully.

‘This fisherman will not catch me!’ It said. ‘It will not! I’ve played him good.’

‘That you did, brave fish, Solene said. ‘You seem quite happy of yourself.’

‘So many have tried to catch me, but yet here I am. They can laugh all they want, these all fishes. But I’m better than them. And now my house is so pretty with all these shiny baits…’

“That fish is quite conceited, don’t you think?”

“It is,” She conceded. “But it had reasons to be. It had such pretty shining scales, with so many vibrant colors…’

“Ever so ostentatious…”

“Tsk, tsk, Rhett I know you don’t share my love for colors…”

“Your love for colors? My, Scarlett! From my experiences, I’ve seen less colors in a whorehouse than in this one, so that’s telling about your love of colors!”

He laughed at this, but she said nothing. The words had stung her more deeply than she would have liked. Especially with her encounter with that Watling.

“Rhett,” She said, softly. “Stop.”

“Scarlett…” He stopped, his eyes widening. “I didn’t mean…”

“Of course you did,” Scarlett sighed.

“I did not think you cared what I thought about it.”

“Well, that’s the story of our lives, right?” Before he could reply, she eagerly continued, wanting to put that discussion behind them. “But it does not matter. It still won’t give you the end of the story.”

“No. I’m beginning to see it won’t,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, Scarlett.”

She did not answer to his apology. But yet, she felt herself relaxing more on the couch. She took a large breath of air and continued.

“Solene continued her way her way and the fish went on its life. She hesitated a little when she realized the road lead to a forest, but she continued anyway. She did not want to look behind her, to her home that was still visible at the distance. The night was coming and suddenly she felt homesick. She stopped by a willow tree and leaned on it.

“‘Ouch,’ said the willow tree.

“First a talking fish, now a talking tree…”

“Oh, hush, Rhett!” Scarlett said, his amusement so contagious she could not even scold him.

“’Sorry, my lady tree,’ Solene said. ‘But I am tired, and I need a shelter. And I saw there was some place between your roots.’

“’Are you a married woman?’ The willow tree asked.

“’No,’ Solene said

“’That wouldn’t do.’

“’Why so?’

“’Because it is not proper for a young lady to be in a forest all alone without a husband.’

“Is having a husband such a desirable thing?’ Solene asked.

‘It is certainly so. Let me tell you the story of a girl who once met her beaus near my roots…’

Rhett let out a sneer.

“This story doesn’t go anywhere, my pet.”

She shook her head stubbornly, her mouth set on a frustrated pout.

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett, it definitely goes somewhere. If you care to listen to it.”

Rhett chuckled at this. She could see he did not quite believe it, and it irritated her more than it scared her. He hadn’t called her out on her bluff now, had he? She thought. Certainly, it had to mean something…

She would think of that in the morrow, she thought as she stuck out her tongue at him, which had the intolerable effect to make him laugh harder.

“If you say so.”

“I say so,” She sipped a little from her glass. “So the willow tree began her story:

‘There was a girl, I say who always walked in the forest and met her beaus here. She was all alone with them, but they were gentlemen, so they knew how to defend her honor if needed be. She flirted and flirted, but she never let them steal any kiss, nor accept any caress. Then, one day came a man, a stranger, who after one of her rendez-vous, offered her a ride home. Intrigued, she went on with him and as she took a step in his buggy, he charmed her so that soon enough they shared a night of… ‘” Scarlett blushed a little at this. “’ of passion.’”

“That was a quick conquest,” Rhett commented, amused. “The man certainly had a way with women.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, teasing.

“If you call jumping on her having a way with women, then I won’t oppose you.”

“Oh, I’m sure she enjoyed the ride.”

“It may have been enjoyable, I concede,” She shook her head with a smile. “The willow tree stopped in its story, as if shocked by her boldness in telling it.”

“’And what happened?’ Solene asked, curious.

“The man went away and never looked back. She married her eldest beau who was ugly as an oak and raised the bastard with him. Now, child, do you see the moral of the story?’

“’Don’t accept strangers when they’re offering you a ride home?’

“’Of course no, child. It’s ‘secure a marriage first, then jump right in. Then at least you’ll be called Mrs instead of Miss.’

Rhett’s laughter resonated in the room.

“Do you realize these stories of yours might never be accepted in a polite society? My, my, what would the old pea-hens think if they knew this?”

“That would certainly make them choke on their tea. I do remember someone telling me once I was no lady. This would be the proof of that.”

She smiled as his laughter double in a roar that resonated in the room.

“That you aren’t, my darling, and I’m glad of that.”

My darling… Her heart raced at the endearment. How long had it been, since the last time he called her that?

Certainly it must mean something, she thought as her heart skipped a beat. Certainly…

She blinked. Right, the story. She needed to continue it.

“Offended by Solene’s answer, the willow tree refused to let her sleep between its roots. So she walked and walked, until suddenly she came across the body of a woman, laying on the road…”

Her sentence was interrupted by a yawn she could not repress.

“Oh, Rhett… I’ll stop now, if you don’t mind… I’m quite tired.”

“Troublesome day at work?”

The question seemed genuine at the moment, and she felt startled by this. She stared at him suspiciously, trying to see any malice in it. But still, there was this undecipherable, infuriating look he always had, as if the answer were indifferent to him.

“You have no idea.”

Or maybe he had, she thought bitterly. Maybe it had been just what he wanted.

She dusted her skirt and raised up, her back straight and head held defiantly high.

“Good night, Rhett,” She answered him, trying not to let her emotions show in her voice.

“Sleep well, Scarlett,” She heard him reply softly.

She went in the room, tired, forgetting to close the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to those who left a kudos! I really appreciate it!  
> I hope you liked this chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

She could almost get used to this. Fresh croissants and coffee in the morning, the vision of a beloved husband and the children eating their food, and their chattering filling the room…

Well, of course, Wade was still a bit too quiet for his sake, however he would come around. She was sure of that. 

She would not let it show, not yet. It was too early, too fragile. And there was still the matter of Belle intruding her store, insulting her in front of her employees and customers. She had done all she could though. It would be a scandal, yes, but at least a lesser one than it could have been. 

And yet… and yet! He was still here, and he was decent enough. No mean teasing, no leaving in the night (she still counted the steps in the corridors, expecting), no total indifference. His suitcase was back in his room and no letter had arrived, telling him to go immediately. Why, he had actually bought new suits, from what she heard. 

It had to mean something. It had to. 

She observed, her ears and eyes alert to the discussion that took place around the table. Rhett’s drawling voice was strong and confidant, a clear and surprisingly caressing sound coming from these thin lips that had once kissed her with such a passion she thought she could faint. 

“How was fishing yesterday, Wade?” 

“We didn’t go fishing. Beau was sick.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Would you like to do it today?”

Wade looked at his mother who raised an eyebrow at him, nodding with a smile. 

“I’ll be happy to.”

“Good boy,” Rhett smiled approvingly, though she could see he was still a little vexed by the fact that said boy turned to his mother before replying. “And you, Ella? Will you come too?” 

“Oh yes, I will!” She cried enthusiastically. 

His eyes gleamed as she said so. 

“And Mother, can she come too?”

Silence. She blinked, her eyes widening with the surprise of being included. She froze, her fist clenching around her fork. She hesitated. 

“Oh, I’m not sure…”

She stared at Rhett, questioning if he wanted her to come. He was looking at his plate, a disinterested look on his face. Yet, she could not help but notice his fingers were tapping a little too quickly on the table.

When she took too long to answer, he smiled maliciously and said:

“Well, I believe it’s no use, children. The store can’t obviously run itself without your mother poking her nose into it. Like into other things.”

She put down her fork and scowled. “Great balls of fire, Rhett Butler! If you put it that way, I’ll come!”

Ella shrieked.

“Oh, Mother, thank you!” She cried, rising from her chair to get to her mother. 

“Ella, you haven’t finished breakfast yet!” Scarlett scolded, surprised by such outburst. Ella froze, undecided. “Oh, now that you’re here, you’d better give me a hug, would you?”

The little girl smiled widely before coming into her waiting arms. 

Wade sent her a relieved smile as she looked at him. 

She frowned. She almost sighed, remembering the question he had asked her. She should have been glad Wade was now more open to her, and less to Rhett. And yet… It was a distance she only found sad. Just like the one between her and Rhett. He had always been there, after all. Well, almost. She still remembered the moments when he made him jump on his knees, when he looked at him with soft eyes that had surprised her the first time she saw it. 

“Well, then it’s decided. We’ll all go.”

And just like that, they went away, taking the biggest buggy with them. Scarlett barely had the time to change herself, her fingers hesitating only a second over a lilac dress as her excitation took on. Yet, she decided on a green bonnet and her usual black dress, her memories coming to another that had long been gone with the war and the misery. 

It was a sunny day, and she was glad to have accepted. She could almost not believe it, and yet, here she was, with Rhett. And the children, of course. She sat deeper into the buggy and tried not to let on her smile as she took a fidgety and overly enthusiastic Ella in her arms. The little girl was showing her every little detail as if it had a grander meaning, and she found herself succumbing to the lightness of it.

They stopped once to share a picnic carefully packed by Dilcey. Then they continued, Rhett insisting on leading them on a special fishpond that made Ella’s eyes sparkle, convinced as she was they would find a golden fish giving wishes. Towards Wade, he was more practical though. 

“I have taken some new fishing rods. Would you like to try them?”

Wade looked at him hesitantly, then nodded. He took Ella’s hand in his as the buggy stopped. Rhett helped them out and Scarlett shivered when she felt the strength of his hands around her waist, and her feet with nothing under them. Her mind was dizzy as she was tempted to lean on these shoulders. But just as she felt it, it was gone, 

“Rhett…” She said as she put a hesitant hand on his arm as he was about to follow the children, the bags and fishing rods in his hands. She felt him freeze a little at her touch, then relax. His gaze was questioning. “I’d prefer it if you don’t try too hard. I…”

_Don’t want them to be disappointed if you go._

“Never mind.”

He turned away from her. 

“I won’t spoil them too much, if that’s what you ask. I’ve learned my lesson.”

His tone was bitter and sad.

“No!” She cried, before continuing more softly. “I mean… Oh, I wish I could explain it better, without us quarreling, even for the smallest things…”

“I wish you could,” He commented laconically. “Though I dare say I always liked when we quarreled about the smallest things.”

She shook her head, amused. 

“Of course, you did, you infuriating man.”

She set out the cushions on the grass and sat on it with Ella, looking at Rhett giving one of the rods to Wade, showing them the bases of fishing. 

“Beware of the fishes, Wade,” She heard him said, and she could feel his amused gaze on her. “You never know how troublesome these creatures can be.”

“How you do run on…” She replied with a teasing tone. “Wade, don’t listen to him. Use the most adequate baits and it will be alright.”

“Adequate?” Rhett raised his eyebrow, bemused. “And what baits are more adequate, my dear?”

There, Scarlett was at lost what to say. Were they really talking about fishes anymore?

“Why, good food, of course,” She said. 

He laughed. “I should have known you thought with your appetites.”

She huffed and turned her attention towards Ella, who was staring with awe at the clouds, pointing at them and naming them as she thought they were. One was a tree, the other a dragon. Another again was a horse. 

Scarlett tried to see the shapes but could not find them. So, begrudgingly, she set out her attention elsewhere. 

Rhett seemed terribly focused on his fishing spot, and she saw with surprise he had set himself a little further than her son. Though she could see his eyes were questioning towards him. She could see he had tried to gesture him to be gentler with his rod, but the boy did not seem to have listened. Wade was crouched over it, muttering as his hands nervously moved the thing, the line causing little waves to form on the surface.

She raised up and went towards her little boy, softly placing her hands over his. She lifted the line and checked the hook, before throwing it as far as she could. It fell with a soft “ploc” as they looked at it plunging into the water. 

“There,” She said softly. “Be a little softer in your gestures. Wait for them to catch the hook. You wouldn’t want them to be afraid, would you?”

“You know how to fish?” Rhett asked, visibly shocked (and dared she say it? A little admiration?), before his face took a blank expression. “Well, that’s a surprise.”

“My Pa taught me,” She said with a satisfied smile.

“I almost thought you would sing out loud, hoping the fishes would come to you.”

“Oh, Mother, really? Can you?” Ella intervened cheerfully. 

“Well…”

“Oh, Scarlett dear, I’ve never seen you turn down an opportunity to be the center of attention.”

She glared at him. 

“If that’s how it is, then I won’t,” She said, tempted to stuck out her tongue at him. 

Wade was silent, gripping his rod.

“You have a pretty voice…”

She froze. Then a wide smile came at her lips as she strode toward her son.

“Dear Wade!” She exclaimed, in her enthusiasm throwing her arms around the boy’s shoulders, making him froze. The rod fell from his hand, splashing in the water. “Would you like it, if one day you play something on the piano and I join you?”

He looked at her with such an expectant look that to her own stupefaction she was tempted to kiss him. He nodded shyly, his hand slowly coming to touch her arm around him.

Content, she looked through her eyelashes at Rhett’s direction. 

“See. That’s how a true gentleman asks a lady to sing. You should be proud, Wade Hampton. Even your Uncle Rhett doesn’t know how to do it properly.”

He only laughed, shaking his head as if he had not heard a funnier joke. 

They continued again a few hours, until finally Rhett had to admit begrudgingly (after a few remarks from Scarlett and the disappearance of the sun) that the fishes would not come. She almost teased him over his sulky figure as they drove home and separate to change. But as the meal was served, it did not seem to have stayed on his face. 

When the supper was finished, Ella turned towards her mother with expectant eyes. 

“Oh, Mother, are you going to tell the rest of Solene’s story?”

Scarlett blushed, suddenly remembering the many passages that could be considered indecent for a child.

“Wait, you told them the story?” Rhett seemed amused. “Even the willow tree’s?”

Wade’s ears shined red, but his sister let out an excited shriek. 

“Oh, I liked that one!” Ella exclaimed. “The mister was so nice suggesting they play chess on the way. Though I don’t understand why she had to marry the ugly guy at the end…”

“…Play chess?” 

“Certainly, play chess!” She raised her chin, defiant. 

“And what a game it must have been, indeed,” He commented. “I wonder who the winner was.”

“Why, it’s the girl, of course!” Ella answered. “Boys aren’t smart when there’s a girl involved. That’s what Mother said.”

“Oh, did she?” There was a mocking light in Rhett’s eyes, and she was not really sure she liked that much that corner of his lips as they turned up.

“Don’t say nonsense, Ella,” Wade protested, outraged.

“Well, that’s what Mother said!”

Eyes were on her now, and she wondered how she could have let herself be in such a situation. She straightened and observed them, asking herself who would be the easiest to handle. 

“Well, I did say it,” She admitted stubbornly. Her glance stopped on Rhett once, who seemed about to laugh at her again. She raised her head higher, but her lips did so too. Then her eyes stopped on Wade, who still looked expectant at her answer. “But there are special boys, like your brother, who know better than that, and won’t ask to play chess with a girl they just met in the first place.”

Wade glowed under the praise. Rhett bit his lip, barely containing himself.

Well, he could as well choke, she thought with satisfaction. But it felt so good to see him like that. In these moments, it felt so easy, so…

She blinked. She needed to focus.

“Well, if you want to hear the story, you better change, children! I’ll tell it to you in the study once you are in your nightclothes.”

At this, Ella comically ran to the nursery, Prissy following her with a pleading wail. Wade came after her more calmly. She chuckled, then went to change as well, not daring to look at Rhett when she did so. 

They joined a few minutes later, and she saw with fondness that he had brought down a cover for the children. She felt confidence, seeing them all together, and somehow, it reminded her of Pa and Ellen, and when Suellen, Carreen and her gathered to hear his stories. She smiled, savoring the moment, wondering how she wanted the story to go. Ella gestured her to sit at her left while Wade was tucked at her right, his hand on the handle of the couch. It left only a little place for Rhett, so she waited a little, undecided. Seeing her hesitation, he sat on the handle and raised one eyebrow at her. 

Huffing, she sat down with as much dignity as she could and glared at him. 

“So… can somebody tell me what happened last time?”

Ella raised her hand eagerly, but her voice came before Scarlett had time to tell her she could talk. 

“I know, I know!” She cried. “Solene found a woman on the road, after having met the mean fisherman and the willow tree!”

Scarlett was so surprised at this she forgot to scold her for her manners. She had never dared to hope that much of Ella’s attention but then…

Her eyes softened. She tucked one lock of the girl’s hair behind her ear.

“Very good, Ella,” She said. “Solene found the woman on the road. It made her stop, as she didn’t know if she was alive or not. As she leaned down on her, a bird flew in her direction and talked to her…”

“Oh! But wasn’t the bird supposed to only say “crou, crou”?” Her daughter remarked with wide eyes, her hands waving as if she was mimicking its flight.

Wade snickered. From the corner of her eyes, she saw Rhett smirk. She puffed. 

“It’s a magical bird, Ella,” She said. “Just like Uncle Rhett’s magical fish. It can do everything you want it to do. So, the bird came to Solene and told her this:

“Here is Mary, princess of the… errr… Atlannis kingdom. Let me tell you her story, for it is a very peculiar one. The day of her birth, the animals were so happy they cried…”

“If they were happy,” Ella intervened, bewildered. “Why would they cry?”

Scarlett was tempted to scowl. But as she saw her daughter’s eyes, and Rhett preparing to intervene, she bit her lip. She took a big breath and continued.

“Sometimes people cry when they are happy. Sometimes they feel too many emotions that tears fall down on their face, even if they are not sad. It’s their joy falling down their cheeks.”

Ella seemed unconvinced. But she let it go, visibly deciding that sometimes adults were weird. 

“The birds sang as she was put in her cradle, and she was surrounded with so much love that her heart was filled with it. She was all goodness, the persons around her soon realized. She was generous and true, and… the most faithful friend anyone could have,” Her voice cracked a little at that. “As she grew up, so did her heart, and at one point, it was thought it would be too big for her body. Her parents feared for her health and sent for the doctor. The man looked at her a long time, then shook his head.”

“’ It is not good,’ He said. ‘Her heart loves too much. The more persons she loves, the more her heart grows. If it goes on, it might be too big for her chest and explode.’”

“Oh, no!” Ella cried. “The poor girl!”

From a side of her eye, she could see that Wade was tensed too, his eyes focused on her with a worried frown. She sent them a reassuring glance.

“Thus, she was sent away, for fear the love surrounding her would kill her. But still she stayed happy, knowing she was loved by all, even if she was so alone. Each day she would knit little gifts for her family and friends, and they sent others back, hoping it would appease the loneliness she may feel.”

“She was a really brave girl, wasn’t she?” Ella commented contently.

“She…” She paused, the image of Melly in her mind, her wide smile shining bright at her. “She was, indeed. The bravest one of them all.”

She gripped the end of the couch and, to her surprise, Rhett’s hand joined hers. She looked at him, bewildered, before relaxing. She found comfort in his strength, and it made her go on.

“The bird continued with its story, telling Solene that unfortunately, Mary met a prince, and fell in love with him. Her heart had grown again, and sometimes it caused her to faint when she thought of it.”

“That’s weird,” Wade commented to her surprise with a grimace. “Fainting because of a prince charming. 

Scarlett laughed. “Solene had the same idea, darling. That’s why she decided when Mary finally woke up and after gesturing the bird to stop pestering her that when her heart would be full, never would she let anyone cause her to have such fits.”

She stopped, realizing. Then shook her head. Her gaze stopped on Rhett, who stared at her intently. She lost herself a moment in his eyes, wondering what he could think. Her throat was dry, and she poured herself a glass of water from the jug.

“Mary took to Solene immediately, but Solene was not that much… happy about having someone to travel with. But she continued, determined to lose her on the road.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to do!” Ella protested. 

“Indeed, that is not,” His stepfather remarked. 

Scarlett scowled a little, but it was Wade who intervened. “Well, that’s not funny, someone following you around when you don’t want them to.”

Her eyes softened at this, knowing that she herself had felt so when he was little, tucking at her skirts. She felt sad at the idea that he could remember such moments and promised herself to make it up to him.

“No, it is not,” She said softly, hoping her eyes would show him her new resolution. “But Solene was not a very nice person at that moment. However, even if she would not admit that to anyone, she herself was very lonely and needed a friend.”

She still felt Rhett’s intense gaze on her, making her nervous. What was he thinking? The idea was tormenting her, for she wondered if she could hope from it. 

Her eyes narrowed, a smirk coming at her face as the idea came to her. Rhett’s head cocked a little at one side, an amused smile tucking at his lips.

“But unfortunately,” She continued with a dramatic voice. “Their walk came to a short end. Because, coming from the bushes, came a man dressed all in black…”

“Oooh!” Ella wondered, at awe.

“By the look of him, you could see he was more than just a common bystander. He had strong, powerful shoulders, and hair as dark as the night. In his eyes a vibrant light burned like a wild fire, and he had the most intolerable smirk, such as you may never see in any gentleman…”

Rhett’s own eyes twinkled. 

“I’m quite curious what you will make with this one.”

“Oh, are you?” She looked at him through her lashes, an amused smile on her lips. “Well, here he stood before Solene and Mary:

“‘Behold, fair maidens!’ The pirate shouted. ‘I am the pirate Robert, terror of the oceans, rascal of the sea and lover of ill-fortunes! Hand over your jewels, and by God, your virtue will stay intact!’

“He looked over at Solene and Mary and shrugged.

“Or maybe not,” he added.

“What is a virtue, Mother?”

Ella looked at her with big, innocent eyes. 

Scarlett blinked, then blushed. Damn it, she thought. Why did she have to add that part?

“It’s, errr… a very precious flower young ladies have only once and that they have to give to their husbands once they marry. As a token of their love.”

“Do you think when I’m older, I can have one?”

Scarlett’s face fell as she wondered how she could have been led to go that way in the story, almost forgetting her children were listening. Wade did not seem to know where to put his gaze. And yet, he was still waiting for the rest of the story. His ears were red, and she could see his lips twitching as if he was about to snicker. 

As for Rhett…

She glared at him. He had not even bothered to hide. He was literally roaring in laughter. 

“Did you give it to my father when you married him?” Wade asked, his soft eyes on hers. “That token of love?”

Rhett stopped laughing immediately. She felt him straightening on the couch but did not dare look at him.

“Why… yes I did,” She looked into these expectant eyes and suddenly remembered when Rhett once stopped her from denigrating his father’s memory. At this moment, with such faith in his eyes, he looked so much like Melly that it hurt. “And in return he gave me you. That was the greatest proof of love I could have had.”

She caressed his cheek, feeling the warmth of it coming at her by surprise. 

She cleared her throat. 

“Wade, maybe I should stop now. You’ll need to be up early tomorrow.”

The boy nodded absent-mindedly. 

“Goodnight Mother. Uncle Rhett.”

“Goodnight, my boy,” Rhett answered while Wade went to get a kiss from his mother and nodded towards him. 

He left and her eyes followed him with that curious fondness she was still not used to. Why, she thought amusingly. One could almost think he’s a mama’s boy… That I think of him as “my boy”…

She was interrupted by her musing by the sensation of Ella’s head falling heavily over her arms. She sighed. 

“It’s over for tonight, darling. You’re falling asleep…”

“But Ma… Mother, I want to hear the rest of the story…”

“You’ll hear it tomorrow,” Rhett intervened.

She looked at him, questioning, and he shrugged. 

“Can you help me?” She asked him. 

He nodded. 

“Give her to me.”

Ella was tiny in his strong arms, and yet not as tiny as their little girl had once been. It should have been black hair that fell over her shoulders, and a blue nightgown, not that pink one. She felt a gripping feeling at the thought, her mind suddenly berating her for that. Ashamed, she went over the girl, caressed her locks, and followed Rhett as he led them to the nursery. He placed her carefully on his bed, his eyes undecipherable as he stared at her a few minutes before leaving. 

Scarlett stayed behind a little longer. She sat by her daughter, wondering how her feelings could have changed like that. She caressed Ella’s cheek, feeling it cold against her hand. 

“Mam… Moth…” The little girl mumbled, her eyes barely open. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” She whispered at her daughter’s ear. “You don’t have to call me always Mother. You can call me Mama. Or Ma.”

“Mama…”

She kissed her on the forehead.

“Goodnight, Ella dear.”

She raised and stepped out of the room, surprised at seeing that Rhett was waiting for her. They stayed a little at the door of the nursery as Scarlett closed it softly, wanting to keep a little longer the vision of their tiny shapes under the covers of their beds. 

“I still can’t believe you told them.”

“Well… I know I didn’t like being left out when it came to hearing adults’ stories so… I didn’t want them to feel that way.”

“Playing chess, damn it…” He snickered softly, causing her to glare at him while gesturing towards the nursery. “By the way, you know you could have said a virtue was the fact of being kind and innocent. That’s another definition of it.”

Her eyes widened in dismay. 

“God’s nightgown! Why hadn’t I thought of this?..” She frowned and bit her lip, pondering the question. “Oh, but then, it wouldn’t have made much sense. Why would the pirate threaten to hurt their kindness?”

He chuckled. She scowled.

“Oh come on, say it... I know you’re dying to say it.”

“What, my dear?” His eyes gleamed with humor. 

“How unsuitable I am as a mother. Go on. I know it’s eating you up.”

“No, no… It was almost sweet of you. I’m just surprised by it.”

He let out a heavy sigh.

“Bonnie would have loved it too.”

“She would have,” She said with a lump in her throat. She tried to laugh it off. “But she wouldn’t have understood all the same. She would just have used it to get a buggy for her pony.”

Her fists clenched, her nails hurting the soft skin of her palms as the image of Bonnie Blue Butler came dancing in her mind, her eyes filled with mischief and her dark curls falling around her shoulder. Why was it still so hard? Why couldn’t she even talk about her without mentioning the pony who had been the cause of her death? She bit her lips, trying to stop the tears from coming. 

“She’d have known I wouldn’t have refused her.”

She heard more than she saw the wistful smile on his face.

She shook her head, hoping to erase the memories as silence settled in. 

“I think Wade had suspicions, though…”

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” He replied softly. “That boy knows more than he lets on.”

“I know,” Scarlett sighed, lowering her head. “If Melly was there, it wouldn’t have been a problem. She would have protected them so much more than I’m able to do.”

He looked at her a long time, a soft light in his eyes.

“You really do miss her….”

“More than I thought I ever could,” She admitted. “She was everything I wanted to be. More than that, she was the friend I didn’t know I needed. I’ve never met someone so loyal and so kind. Oh, I hated her for that. I hated the fact that she never seemed to mind when I was mean to her. I hated that for each one of my faults she always turned her cheek to me and smiled.” 

“It’s the things you take for granted for so long that hurt the most once they’re gone.”

“I guess so.” 

He did not answer it, but when she saw the sudden smugness of his face, she could not help it. 

“I hope you’re not talking about yourself too.”

He shrugged.

“You conceited varmint,” She exclaimed with a teasing smile. “That would be foolish. You’re the most fleeting person I know!”

An amused indignation was displayed into Rhett’s face and Scarlett could not help the smile that was drawling on her lips.

“Fleeting? Oh, take care of my vanity, woman! I’m not sure I deserve such a compliment.”

She laughed. “For most of my life, I never could know if you were going to stay or you would be going on an adventure far away on the sea. Why, the very first time I saw you, I thought you looked like a buccaneer looking for a ship or a girl to steal away.”

That after thinking he stared at her as if he wanted to know how she was under her shimmy, she remembered with an angry blush.

“Quite accurate, indeed,” He commented with a lazy grin. “I’m a pirate, right?”

“A rascal,” She said tenderly, staring right back at him. 

She looked into these black orbs, wondering how long she could get lost in them. In her mind, she saw a light, and It warmed her whole. It was a heady sensation, filled with the strength of his formidable presence, covering her like a blanket on a winter day. She wanted to lean on, raise on tiptoes to get closer, like a moth flying around a flame without daring to land.

But it must have been only in her mind. She blinked as the clock rang. 

“You should get back to bed,” She heard him say softly.

“Yes, I should,” She whispered, more out of breath than she would have wanted to be.

She nodded numbly, not daring to look at his lips. 

How long had it been since he last kissed her? She wondered. An eternity. Too much. And yet…. Looking at him, she was indecisive, almost shy. She dared not break the quiet companionship between them. Tomorrow, it will be clearer, she thought. Tomorrow he’ll kiss her, and she won’t have to ask herself if truly he did not love her anymore. 

“Goodnight, Rhett.”

She bit her lip, then stepped back, going back to her room with a hazy feeling. At her ears came his whisper as she opened her door and went to her bed. 

“Sweet dreams, my dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope you liked it! Thanks to those who left a kudo, I'm glad you appreciate the story!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for your reviews! I’m glad you liked it so far.  
> So here I am, dropping this chapter before… dramatically running away.

It is strange to think how in three hours or so, a world can change. How tables can be turned. Scarlett felt dizzy just thinking of it. One moment, she was having breakfast with Rhett and the children, her smile so wide her husband commented on it.

“You look like the cat that got the cream, my dear.”

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett Butler!” She shrugged with a nonchalant gesture. “Can’t a woman smile for no reason?”

“If you say so,” He raised an eyebrow, as if amused.

She had been very happy indeed, and her mind was filled with expectations of another day such as yesterday. She was decided to surprise them by coming back earlier from the store and suggest them a game outside. Nothing really. Maybe a little hide-and-seek. She could imagine Rhett looking for her, his smirk on his swarthy face as he finds her. She shivered delightfully at the idea of being caught and seeing his eyes twinkling at her. Hugh told her someone had tried to call on her the day before, however as eager as she was, she did not pay attention.

But when she came back, the children were not here and Rhett was waiting for her at the dinner table. The doll she had asked for repair, and books she did not recognize at first were carefully laid before him.

Looking at the doll and the books, she realized. Her expression flared with contempt.

Oh, she should have known a spinster like India Wilkes would have such a hobby as mending dolls, was her first thought. She should have known Mrs Elsing would go to her. She almost sneered at it, her animosity towards the woman so strong at the moment.

But as she crossed Rhett’s seething glare, she paled. Ashley. Ashley had come.

“Hello, Scarlett,” He saluted her with a terrible sneer. “How… early you are today.”

She did not have the words to comment.

“Are you not going to ask me how my morning had been?”

A lump was burning in her throat, and she felt she might faint.

What had happened? What could have possibly happened that had now led to such a situation?

“I dare say, your knight in shining armor has more gumption than I thought,” He continued with an almost disinterested glance, his fist clenched so tightly his knuckles appeared white. “‘as a well-meaning friend’, indeed! Wanting to talk to you. Another impromptu declaration of lust- oh, pardon darling, love – perhaps? He was worried about you, you know. Worried about your husband coarsening you and… What did he say, again?” He waved nonchalantly as she froze, recognizing the words. “No matter, I got the point. I dare say, you managed to surprise me. I almost thought you really cared about Miss Melly. It was almost laughable, watching him trying to defend your honor when you and I know we have none of that.”

He stared at her for a long moment when she did not answer.

“You say nothing. You keep silent.”

“What do you want me to say?” She sounded already too defeated for her own taste. “You’ve already made up your mind about it.”

He raised suddenly.

“Oh, Scarlett, don’t act all Desdemona on me. That doesn’t suit you.”

“Who’s Desdemona?” She raised her head with sudden suspicion in her eyes, and a jealousy she thought long gone flaring in her veins. “Is it another one of your whores?”

He laughed meanly at her.

“Tsk. Your ignorance knows no limits.”

“Explain to me, then!” She cried.

He stopped a little before her, his eyes down as if he were considering what to do. He took her wrist brusquely, his grip so strong she thought he would break the bones of it and led her to the study. Here, he rummaged in the suitcase he had brought with him and took out a pile of papers and a pen. His eyes were burning on her as he put them on the desk.

“I’ll put it very clear for you, my dear. I won’t tolerate any hypocrisy nor lies between us again. Here are the papers of the divorce you secretly want so despairingly. Sign it. End this masquerade.”

She stared at it numbly, before meeting his eyes with a defiant outrage.

“I won’t.”

“Do it.”

“No.”

His expression changed, and she took a step back. But her wrist was still in his hand as he tried to make her take the pen.

“Set me free, damn you!” He growled.

“NO!” She cried. “Stop it, you’re hurting me!”

He froze, as if hit. She took this opportunity to escape his grip and face him.

“I won’t let you go away without a fight! No, not anymore!”

Her breath was ragged as she went on, feeling her heart was about to burst from her chest.

“You promised! You promised not to go until you found the end of the story…”

He snarled.

“So… it’s a matter of finishing that story and see who’s been right all along, eh?” He let out a laugh without humor that chilled her to the bones. “Darling, you disappoint me. You don’t even have an ending to that little story of yours and it doesn’t take long before realizing how close it is to your own. So why should I even bother honoring that promise?”

There it was. He had called on her bluff. He had figured it out.

Or hadn’t he since the beginning?

If so, why bothering? Was it another way to play with her? Could he be so cruel?

She blinked the shock away. Stared at him. She felt as if thunder had suddenly hit her, and the floor was crumbling under her feet. Because with that look in his eyes, she knew what the end of the story would be. She shook from the strength of it. And yet, she could see no other way.

At that moment, she knew it perfectly. She loved that man to distraction. But she would not make him stay long enough when he did not want to. For he would go, that was an inevitable issue. She was persuaded of it. She had always known it, she realized. He had always gone away. Except this time, he would not come back.

Still, she was aware enough to know she would try anything to delay the day of his departure and enjoy every moment she had left. She was selfish like that.

Had she not been torn apart by this new revelation, she would certainly have noticed Rhett looking at her like a cat would a mousehole, a painfully familiar and almost forgotten look that would have given her what she had been looking for since a long time: true hope.

Unfortunately, she did not. She closed her eyes, her jaw clenched. And she let it go.

She straightened, a new resolve in her heart. By the time she opened it again, the expression in his eyes had disappeared, replaced with that disinterested glance she had seen too many times.

“As a matter of fact, I have,” She said with a strange sense of calmness, her gaze slowly looking up until it met his own. “But would it even stop you from getting what you want?”

She took a step forward. The words left her lips freely, and as she said it, she knew them to be true.

“You’re a coward, Rhett Butler, and a hypocrite. You tell me it’s possible to live without a reputation and encourage me not to care, but when it turns against what you desire, you set me apart like some whore you’re ashamed of. You reproach me over and over my infatuation with Ashley, but you go to that Watling over and over and don’t tolerate any remark about it. You tell me of a great, deathless love, but you only admit to it when you think it’s too late to make anything about it. You told me you’ve done everything to make me care, but all I can remember is that never at any point of our marriage you let me close long enough to see _you_ cared.”

“You tell me I’m cruel to the ones who love me, that I use their love against them like a whip. But what have you done to me, Rhett? Since the very beginning, you’ve used your knowledge of the world, and even of myself against me to get what you want. You talk about my ignorance, my lack of taste, but did you ever tried to share with me that great knowledge you seem to have? …” She shook her head, trying to stop the tears from coming. “But this time, I won’t let you without a fight. You can try to force me, but the only thing you’ll have will be my broken wrist.”

She stared at him with hard eyes, trying to look into his soul as he had so many times into hers.

“What are you afraid of, this time? Of a little story because you can’t find the ending? Or something else?”

He turned away abruptly, and suddenly weary, she fell on the nearby chair, her strength wavering at the moment. His jaw was set so tightly she wondered if it might bleed.

“Why would you love me, then, if I’m the coward you say I am?” He finally uttered. “If I… hurt you, why would you want me?”

“Because we are the same,” She replied painfully. “We are prideful, greedy, and hard. We can’t bear being vulnerable in front of others, we need to have control. And when we don’t, that when we’re the cruelest. We love our comfort and mostly engage in some cause or another because it suits us. But when the time comes to do our duty, we do it, even to our surprise… And because it tears me apart to even think of a life without you, even though I know I can.”

She took a time to take another breath of air. She was suffocating, and yet the words kept falling from her mouth, like boiling water from a long-neglected pot on the fire.

“You’ve been here for most of my life, Rhett. You’ve comforted me when I was afraid, distracted me when I was sad. You’ve cared for me, even when I didn’t want you to. You’ve shown to me I could be more than what was expected of me, that I could expect more from the world than just being a… a broodmare waiting for her husband to take care of things!”

“And yet… There are too many people in this relationship, Rhett. There always had been. Ashley, Belle Watling… even Bonnie and Melly! Too many eyes on us, too many uncertainties. We threw words that cut, and we still bear the scars of it, and even I don’t know if it will truly heal one day. I can’t fight all alone against all of this! Even for me, it is too much! That… That Watling woman told me I had been a poison in your veins for too long…”

“Belle?”

“… But what are you to me, Rhett? You… you are like the nightcap I need to get through the day. I know that sometimes you do me wrong, but sometimes you do me so much good I feel alive and young again. You are like Tara, rough and hard and mostly unforgiving. But you are a reminder of what I really am, of what I really want.”

“I can live without you. But I don’t want it. Call me a child if you want, mock me for my attempts… God knows you know how to hurt me with only a few words, and that since the beginning… You can even try to convince yourself I’ve been the same with my pursuit of Ashley. But I know it’s different. How can it not be? Ashley was… like my dream of becoming a lady. I believed I could touch it one day, but it’s always been unreachable to me. Dreams can be sweet, but it can’t sustain someone for so long… At least, not me. You… You’re the most real person I’ve met. I can’t idolize you. I can’t use you. I… can only feel for you. Hate you, because you hurt me so and you know it. Love you, because I can’t help it and I know it. Despite you and me and all the rest.”

Had she paid attention to him at that moment and not the deep feelings she was lost in, she would certainly have heard him cursing over her using his words against him once again. She would have seen that mocking flame gleaming, seeking. She would have noticed he had stepped towards her, his hand reaching out shakily.

But she had not and when she raised up and looked at him, the hand fell down and his face took a blank expression.

“If you want me to sign the papers of divorce, I’ll do it. But only once you’ve defeated me on my own… game, ridiculous as you may think it is. I won’t go without a fight, for I know I would hate myself for it if I did not. What about you?”

There was a fire in her eyes as she said that. A steely strength as sharp as a sword.

He stared at her for a long time, as if memorizing her features. For a while she felt the hope warming in her. He loved her! It had to be! What other explanation could there be?

Would he fight for her? She wondered. Would he fight with her?

“Alright, then. Alright,” His tone was contained as he said the words.

He nodded, a strain in his eyes she did not recognize. Then turned away, leaving the house. She heard his hurried steps on the corridors, and then the door close behind him, loud in this empty house.

She had her answer. He would not. He did not… Love her. It had all been in her mind. Or maybe a cruel, terrible game for him.

She let out an anguished cry and fell on her knees. And then came the darkness.

When she regained consciousness, the sky was already dark. She had been brought back in her room. She raised carefully, put her shawl around her and went downstairs. Her eyes felt heavy and painful, and her appetite not so good as she looked at her plate.

Wade was surprisingly distraught at dinner, and she itched to ask him what was going on. But she was herself overwhelmed and weary, and her practicality, the only way she found not to focus too much on her own emotions, offered a poor substitute for comfort, even to Ella who stayed quiet, her newly mended doll held in a tight embrace around her chest.

He did not come back that night, and she reasoned she did not expect him to. Yet, she let the door of her room open, her heart shuddering a little although she did not dare to hope. The house seemed lugubrious and dark, but still she found herself waiting until her eyes closed themselves.

He did not come back the day after and she found herself crying in her room, too big to fit her alone. The house seemed to oppress her and she felt haunted by all the memories that surrounded it. She heard Ella’s footsteps near her door, heard Wade’s soft words telling her to let their mother alone. By night, she found drawings at her doorstep. She closed her door, isolating herself with the precious tokens.

By the time the morning came, a new resolution came to her and she left her room, decided to spend the time with the children. Ella came to her cheerfully, telling her how she had missed her. Wade stayed a little in retreat at first, but as she caressed his cheek and thanked them for the drawings, she could see in his eyes he was glad she was alright. It warmed her heart somehow and helped her going through her day. She asked them both to go to the store. She saw some people had been attracted to the scandal and had come to see for themselves what happened with that infamous Mrs Butler. She put a fake smile on her face and waved at them, her children both at her side. Wade stayed beside her as she looked at the account books, and she found herself explaining to him how it worked while Ella was drawing in the background. He listened and observed carefully, as if afraid to miss anything. In fact, he seemed even afraid to leave her side, as if she would disappear into thin air. Then, for a while, she assisted Charlie and Hugh, urging them to be more offensive about their appraisal of the new fabrics that had arrived.

On the way home, she stopped at the smith and asked him to change the lock of the chest she had taken with her.

It felt like a normal day, somehow. A normal day if there was not this void in her heart, and in this house that felt more and more unbearable to live with. She noticed as they came back by the middle of the afternoon that even daylight was not enough to make it welcoming, with the heavy curtains and the oppressive pieces of furniture. And these carpets, with colors she found now too aggressive, so dark for her eyes. How could she have tolerated it?

She would think of it tomorrow, she thought, distraught, as she put her best wrapper over her shoulders, a poor attempt at comfort. Tomorrow, she would find ways to make it a home. If not for Rhett, but for her and the children.

Wanting to think about other things, she resigned herself following the children to the nursery and attempted to play dolls with Ella, who visibly was happy with the one she got.

One hour before the supper was served, the little girl turned to her mother and asked.

“What about the story, Mama?”

Her eyes widened at this. Had it really interested them, or was it a way to content her? She wondered.

_Darling, you disappoint me. You don’t even have an ending to that little story of yours and it doesn’t take long before realizing how close it is to your own. So why should I even bother honoring that promise?_

The words cut like a knife as she remembered them.

“Would you be interested in hearing it?”

She cursed herself for the weakening of her voice at that moment. She wanted to close her eyes, not to see the way their faces would betray the fact that they just wanted to humor her.

“Oh Mama, I want to!”

Her heart jumped at this, as she looked at the eagerness in Ella’s face, at her bright eyes and wide smile. She gazed at Wade, who tried at first to appear uninterested. But his act did not stay long the more she stared at him.

“I would like it too, Mother…” The boy finally said, his shy glance on her.

She smiled widely and led them to the study.

She shuddered a little when her hand reached the doorknob, remembering what had recently happened in it. But as she released a breath, she squared her shoulders and her eyes strengthened.

It will be alright, she thought. She was here, and so were her children. That was enough. That had to be enough.

They went hand in hand at the study, and she settled herself between the two, her arms comfortably wrapped around their shoulders.

“So,” She began. “Last time, Solene met Mary, the princess of Atlannis and heard her story…”

“And there was the terrible pirate Robert!” Ella cried eagerly, her finger in the air. “He wanted to… to… to steal Solene and Mary’s flowers!”

Scarlett frowned.

“Ella…”

The little girl lowered her head, chastised.

“Sorry mama. “

She bit her lips, then chuckled. “You’re right, Ella. I’m glad you remember it. Just try not to interrupt me. There, you’re a good girl, “ She added, ruffling her ginger hair. “The pirate was very threatening, his eyes a black pool without light nor warmth. At his belt, he had a gun, a knife and a sword, and Solene wondered which one he would use first.”

‘Priorities,’ he would have said. She could almost hear him now.

“Was she afraid?” Wade asked.

“A little,” Scarlett replied with a smile of false conspiration. “She knew the pirate was not just ill-mannered, but also very dangerous. However, she remembered the stones her mother gave her, and it gave her strength. And at her side, Mary was shaking. She was a brave woman, but her health was not good enough. If their meeting continued, Solene thought she might faint, and what good would it be if she did? She couldn’t let her like this!” As she talked, the wrapper had fallen from her shoulders. She let Ella play a little with it, before scolding and putting it on the chair near the desk. Her eyes widened when seeing the papers still on it. She paled. But went back to the children as if nothing had happened. If they noticed, no one dared to ask.

“Well, where was I?” She said. “Oh, I remember… Nobody else was on the road, not even a knight. So Solene knew she had to do something by herself to get out of that situation. She had heard a lot about pirates like him. People had told her stories about them, stealing away girls and women, hiding their fortunes in solitary islands in the South. They were fearless and cruel, she heard, and no pity could be expected from them. Her mother always told her to fear them, but her Pa always said that all pirates were persons, and each person had a weakness. She needed to find his to escape. Or at least to buy some time before coming with a better plan.”

“’Why, my lord pirate,’ Solene said to him, batting her eyelashes…”

“Oh, like you just did!” Ella commented. “… sorry.”

Scarlett blinked. Had she really? Then she scowled.

“Maybe she had dust in her eyes?” Wade intervened suddenly.

She looked into his eyes and wondered how many times he had intervened like that to divert the attention from another person. She bit her lips, a strange feeling of self-blaming coming to her before she shook her head. She was going to make it right. She knew she could!

“Maybe so,” she begrudgingly admitted, chastised that her own children might think her own old tricks as a Southern Belle as strange and ludicrous.

“So, she said ‘My lord pirate, rascal and lover of the sea. How terrible you are! Tell us about your story, so we may know more about you!’”

“The pirate smirked. ‘Oh, I know what you’re trying to do, girl, but I’m going to indulge you for this one.”

“Oh, so the pirate’s weakness was his vanity?” Wade said.

“Exactly, sweetheart,” Scarlett chuckled, before stopping, the image of Rhett coming in her mind, scowling. She shook her head. “So the pirate continued : ‘I was born a scoundrel and I am proud of it. Being a pirate is being free, not having strings attached. I can leave when I want. I can do what I want. I can think what I want. The others can think what they want, it does not touch me. This is my story, and I hope you’re not too disappointed, girl. I’m sure you had great expectations about it. Perhaps you might have imagined I was a prince in disguise, and I’m almost sorry that it is not the case.’”

“’Absolutely not,’ Solene retorted. ‘ A scoundrel is a scoundrel. But our virtue is all we have, we are but poor powerless women and we’d like to continue our way.”

“’Poor I think not,” the pirate retorted. ‘At least not you, Miss. I see you for what you are, and you’re not a good girl. No good girl looks like you do.’”

“That’s not nice,” Ella said.

“No, it is not,” Scarlett smiled softy. ““Solene was angry by that. So angry that she threw him the first thing she grabbed in her pocket. It was the emerald…”

She stopped, hearing the cries of Prissy. The dinner must have been served. She gestured the children to go, then stayed a little longer in the study. She took carefully the papers still on the desk and once in her room put them in the drawer of her vanity. She locked it and stared at the key a moment, before putting it in her jewelry box.

Recalling the story, she sighed. Yes, Rhett was right, and she knew it. Until then, she had barely hidden elements of her own life, and that of the people around her.

Could history be changed? She certainly hoped so. If only to prove him wrong. She needed to be better than that. At least try. Next time, it would turn different, she thought. Next time, it would go beyond that.

She changed for dinner and joined Wade and Ella, attempting to engage them in a friendly chatter. Hopefully, they seemed to catch on and she almost forgot her numbness. She kissed them goodnight, letting Prissy escort them and went back to her room, discharging Pansy for the night. The corset was not so tightly tied now, she could put it off alone.

As a chill came to her, she sighed.

She had forgotten her wrapper in the study.

Her purpose in mind, she went down the stairs and returned to it, humming as she sought it. She frowned as she did not see it on the chair as she let it before but sighed in relief as she realized it had just fallen down. As she wrapped herself in it, someone cleared his throat. She froze, her heart skipping a beat.

“Well, my dear,” She heard his drawling voice. “I almost waited.”

Slowly, she turned toward Rhett and took him in. His crisp, clean appearance, his lips, that were set in an almost automatic cynical smile below that thin mustache. His eyes, black and undecipherable, examining her like a panther eyeing its prey.

She looked at him in disbelief, looked at this man who seemed unchanged and still at the prime of his strength. The heavy lines were lighter somehow, and in her treacherous heart, she still felt about him so keenly it was as if her soul was being torn apart.

She took a step forward.

“You’re here… You came back…”

He raised an eyebrow at her from the couch, as if nothing had happened. And yet, his grip was a little too strong on it, his eyes too alert. He looked as if he were about to pounce on her.

“You know I never back down from a challenge. This story won’t finish itself alone, will it?”

She blinked, then nodded. Her eyes closed completely during what seemed to be a minute as she felt like she would faint on the spot. But her strength came back as soon as such a thought came to her.

It didn’t matter. No, it did not.

She was Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler. She had survived a burning city, a burning house. She had lied, stolen and killed. She had survived the Yankees, and two husbands. She would survive this one. It was not a question of having the upper hand anymore. She knew it was useless. It was a question on leaving on her own terms.

“Right. But I won’t tolerate any insult of your part anymore, Rhett.”

“I won’t, Scarlett,” he said softly. “Please, continue.”

Her eyes widened on the “please”, a rare word for the man at her side. She nodded. He made the gesture to close the door behind her, but she refused.

She sat down, not daring to look at him, then told the parts she did with the children. She took pleasure in recalling their questions and reactions and it put a nostalgic, almost melancholic smile on her face. She did not dare to look at him, not now when she felt her strength was so new.

At some times, he seemed about to ask a question. But she took care to let only a few breaks in the story. She berated herself for such a behavior, but she also did not trust herself not to cry. Did not trust herself when his presence, his scent were surrounding her like this, in a grip she did not want to escape, but knew she had to. When she came to the part she left the children with, she finally found the strength to turn towards him.

“It’s over for today,” She said as she rose from the couch.

“Scarlett, I…”

She felt herself shaking her head. She did not want to hear what he had to say. She did not want him to tell her how bad he wanted to leave.

“I need to rise early in the morning.”

“Right…” He said with dismay. “Good-night, Scarlett. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded towards him, a weary smile on her lips.

In the end, he would leave. But it would not destroy her.

No matter what, she would enjoy every moment. She would take each one of these moments with him to build her strength. And when the time would come, she would be ready.

Suddenly, as she was about to close the door of her room, she heard his steps stop in the corridors and a thought came to her. A memory, just before Bonnie died. What was it? She had been so afraid, wondering if she would lose him to the Klan. What had he called her then?

“My love…” She whispered, so softly that nobody in the room could have heard it. “My love, oh, my love…”

She looked at her tormented expression on the mirror of her vanity. Horrified, she put herself against the door, closing it.

He had repeated these words too. And yet… he had been so indifferent. A perfect stranger.

Was it how he did it? How he lost his feelings? Had telling it that often made it lose all sense, to the point that even the thought of it did not inspire him anything?

She let out an anguished sigh.

“Mother…”

She jumped.

“Wade?” She asked, trying to regain her composure as she saw the silhouette of her son on the corner, almost unperceived with the darkness surrounding him. “What are you doing here, sneaking like that in the shadows?”

She thought his figure fidget a little, his hands almost shaking. She felt before she saw his face that he was worried, no, afraid.

“I had trouble sleeping, Mother. I thought… I could wait for you here.”

“Wade…”

Her words were failing her, but as he saw her arms were reaching out for him, the boy strode before her and embraced her fiercely. She put her hands firmly on his shoulders, feeling his body shaking (or was it her? She wasn’t entirely sure). All she knew was that there was this other being with a distress that equaled hers and that felt the same need for comfort. She found solace in this.

In the corridors, a door closed. She released a sigh she did not know she had been holding.

“Wade…” She whispered finally, finding her strength. “What is going on?”

He did not answer at first, but as she stepped back and raised his chin, his distorted mouth let out a soft cry, barely noticeable in the immensity of the room.

“Mother… Will we ever be alright?”

She looked at this little face strained by tears, at these eyes seeking, pleading for peace and comfort.

“Oh Wade…” Her eyes softened as she stroked his cheek. “We’ll be alright, dear, I swear it. We’ll be alright.”

Not recognizing herself, she found herself whispering at his ear with a renewed strength, and the determination to live another day.

“You’ve been so brave, my little boy, and I’m so proud of you. Go to sleep, sweetheart. Tomorrow will be another day. I promise it to you.”

She led him to the nursery and went back to her room, closing the door lightly behind her.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and the kudos. It really means a lot to me.  
> As always, I do not own the universe of Gone With the Wind. But it’s still very enjoyable to write about it.  
> I hope you will enjoy this one!

She had a nightmare that night. Not that one with the mist, she knew now she had lost that sanctuary. This one had only come once or twice since his first departure, a reminder of what she could have had, had she not been so blind. Or maybe it was her daylight nightmare, and now she was so used to it it did not bother her anymore.

No. This one was special. This one was new and gripping with all the intensity of a true wild storm. A storm, indeed.The house was on fire, but she could not leave it. She knew if she left she would lose everything. She would be all alone, without a place to go to, without someone to turn to. And yet if she stayed, there would be no Scarlett O’Hara. Only ashes that would soon enough be gone with the wind. No one would cry for her, then. Rhett, oh, Rhett! He was gone, he had left! No one would care. Whatever feelings she might have inspired, they would be gone too. And her children… Oh, God, who would take care of the children?

She raised quickly and focused on basic gestures, hoping to erase the memories and the terrors of it all. As she brushed her hair, she sighed. But still, it wasn’t enough. She called for her breakfast to be served in her room.

When she was done and clothed, she went down. Then stopped.

“Oh,” She froze on the stairs. “You’re awake.”

Rhett raised an eyebrow at her from his position on the chair near it. He seemed to be reading the journal of yesterday, his long legs crossed and his fingers idly tapping the corners of the pages.

“I am.”

“Miz Scarlett! Miz Scarlett!”

The servant was still as hysterics with every little thing that happened that Scarlett was tempted to lash at her. Her calls came from the nursery, and soon enough her steps rang clearly near her.

“What’s going on, Prissy?”

“It’s Mistah Wade, Miz! E’s sick. Won’t leave the b’d.”

“I should get going.”

“Do you want me to go with you?” Rhett intervened.

“No, it’ll be fine.”

She waved at him, then turned away swiftly.

She had talked too much the other day, and now surely it scared him. It certainly must have scared him so, for him to go for two days God knew where.

Or at least it made him feel pity. She needed to stop that. She needed to make him see she didn’t want it.

And she knew he would be unbearable if she knew such a moment was about to repeat itself.

She went to the nursery and found Wade still in his little bed, his figure, soon too big for such a piece of furniture.

“Mother…” He said plaintively as he saw her, his eyes blinking as if it was painful to keep them open. “I’m sick…”

She felt her heart squeeze.

“Oh, darling…”

She put a hand on his forehead. Tepid. 

She scowled.

“Why, Wade Hampton, if you’re sick, then I’m the Queen of England!”

Seeing that pretending could not lead him anywhere, he raised, an equal scowl on his face.

“I won’t, no, I won’t!” he protested. “I won’t go, you won’t force me!”

“Why, you…”

Where did that stubbornness come from?

She blinked, then saw the tears that were threatening to fall.

Looking at his little face with his eyes begging her, she was tempted to embrace him and allow him to stay. Her nightmare was still on her mind, with that eternal question. Who would take care of the children?

And yet, the unyielding part of her was telling her to stop being so lily-livered. The boy needed some education to be a man and she was not going to throw that away by accommodating to his whimsies!

And yet… their bonds seemed still so fresh to her that she dared not break it. He was about to cry and she hated that.

“Wade,” She said wearily. “I know I haven’t been the mother you needed me to be. But I want you to know that now matter what, I’ll be there for you. That you can count on.”

“Oh, Mother!”

Melly… She shook her head painfully. Melly was not here anymore. Melly could not help her anymore. She needed to find her own ways.

Oh, if only it was that easy as it once was with her beaus…

A light came to her.

“But,” She added firmly, her finger pointing in the air. “I won’t let you escape your duties, especially when you do not want to tell me what is going on,” She sighed dramatically, her hand grazing her forehead as if such thought pained her. “Why, I thought I had such a brave boy…”

“I am!”

His face was so affirmative and fierce at that moment she was tempted to smirk.

“Then make me proud,” She said with a mischievous smile. “I want the other mothers to be pea green with envy when they see how intelligent and courageous my son is.”

He nodded eagerly.

“I will, Mother! You can count on me!”

She laughed, ruffling his soft brown locks.

“I know I can,” She smiled, opening her arms for him. “Come hug Mother. You’re a good boy, Wade Hampton.”

He hesitated a little, then eagerly jumped on it, almost making her fall. Then he went away, his steps quick as if he was preparing himself to run a marathon.

She smiled with satisfaction. Why didn’t she remember how Wade seemed to glow after a praise? There were times when she did it without thinking about it. But now that she knew it, she could use it.

Oh yes, they would all swallow their tongues when they saw her, the mother of the greatest judge, no, the greatest president the world had ever seen! How would they dare to look down at her, now, and call her unfit as a mother? She would like to see them try!

“Mama! Mama!” Ella tugged at her sleeve. “My doll…”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“It is broken!”

“Oh, Ella!” Scarlett scowled. “You need to take greater care of your things!”

“I didn’t mean to! It just…”

“Alright, alright. Don’t whine on me, Ella. Mama can’t bear that. Put a smile on your face, you’d be prettier.”

Her daughter refrained a sob, bit her lip, then showed a good amount of crooked teeth.

“There it is!” She pointed at the little face. “Now kiss me and go see Prissy.”

She gave her cheek for her to kiss, then shook her head as she saw Ella coming from nearly utterly despair to giddiness.

She sighed, then looked at the doll. The hole had been poorly mended with fabrics, she realized it now, and as she put her finger in the hole, she realized a paper had been slipped in it. Surprised, she stared at it. She was about to unfold it as Prissy’s cry for the children made her jump. She put the doll and the paper in her sash and went down in the study. She sighed, squaring her shoulders and opened the door. She had no other way to retrieve it, after all. She doubted Prissy nor Pansy would have cared for it. So it left only one person.

She knew she’d find him there.

“I see you managed to convince him.”

“It wasn’t that hard actually. He just needed the right… incentive.”

He chuckled.

“I would have liked to see that.”

She smiled. At least that was a beginning.

“By the way, where did you put Ashley’s account books?”

He scowled.

“Are you still going to check it?”

Why do you care? She wanted to snap.

She bit her lip, her eyes twinkling as she refrained her thoughts, then tried to shrug it off.

“Well, what can I say, I am a woman of duty, even when they are painful ones,” She said, her heart beating too quickly for her sake. Oh, why even when he was like that she still desired him more like any other man? 

“In the drawer of the desk, I believe. I guess I didn’t know what to do with them.”

“It almost surprises me you didn’t just throw them out,” She could not help to comment. “Don’t frown, it will stay stuck on your face. You wouldn’t want to appear your age, right?”

With a teasing smile, she kissed him on the cheek without letting him a time to think and went on her way. With a swift gesture, she took the books from the drawers and put it in her sash. Her head was dizzy with the sensation of his rough skin on her lips, but as she went outside, she realized her actions and blood came to her cheeks.

“Why, me blushing over a husband. Well, that’s a thing!” She fumed, embarrassed.

It was with such a mood she came at the store, her greetings far less amiable than it had been before. Charlie and Hugh shrugged, visibly used to the swings of their employer, but Ryan, still new to the task, seemed to need a little time before adjusting. 

“The smith left you this early in the morning,” Hugh mentioned laconically.

“Thank you, Hugh,” She said as she stared at the chest delivered on the shelves he was pointing. “Is your mother still coming during the break?”

“Oh, yes, I think she will.”

“Good,” She replied, before taking the chest to her office and putting it under her desk.

With that frustration, she finally took the paper she had hidden in her sash and unfolded it.

_Need to see you. Meet me after Mass._

_I.W._

She frowned at the writing. Oh, that woman. She wished she could see the back of her, and her helpless brother too! Oh, if only she had not promised Melly!

And then, why would she do as she asked? She did not owe her anything, she thought as she put the paper on the corner of her desk.

She opened Ashley’s book and began her work. Her first surprise was to see that some of the mentions were not written with her former obsession’s handwriting. It was neat, nearly too neat.

But as she added up the facts, she realized other things. There were too many errors for it to be just clumsiness.

Still, as she tried to concentrate on the other errors on Ashley’s books, her curiosity was piqued.

Could it be linked? Certainly, it looked similar, she thought as she looked at the two documents.

She needed answers. Desperately. Soon it was nagging her like a horsefly.

A crash interrupted her thoughts. Tidying quickly her desk, she raised and went to see what was going on.

“Hey, you!” Hugh yelled. “Stop right there! You little rascal!”

It was a boy. Ten, maybe eleven. He was dirty and dark, his clothes rags over his skinny body. Judging from the commotion, he had certainly tried to steal one of the candies that had been set at the entrance. He moved like a scared cat, swift on his feet as he tried to escape Hugh. Fortunately for him, the manager tripped over the boxes that had fallen.

Scarlett refrained herself to react. She gestured Ryan to clean it up and waited.

This child could be Wade. He could be Beau.

She sighed. No, it would not be. She would never let that happen. Not in her lifetime.

“Where does he come from?” She asked Hugh as he finally abandoned his chase.

Her manager scowled.

“The orphanage, maybe. Such brat can’t come from a distinguished family, I believe. It’s been several days he comes too close to the store. I don’t like it.”

Is it ill-mannered to be starved and to want to fight it? Scarlett wondered.

Melly would have certainly go to the orphanage. Hadn’t she? She didn’t remember. But she noted to check it one day.

Mrs. Elsing entered the store in all her glory, her face stuck in that offended face that suggested she thought Scarlett was the reason for the tantrum outside.

“Ah, Mother…”

“This brat almost made me jump and let everything fall!” Mrs Elsing scowled. “You should take better care of who comes across your store. The varmints seem to go everywhere, these days.”

Scarlett bit her lip so hard she thought it might bleed.

“Mrs. Elsing,” She nodded towards her. “I thank you for your observations. In return, I do hope you will transmit to our common friend that I’m not satisfied with her work.”

“Scarlett…” The old lady gritted her teeth.

“But,” She cut her with a nonchalant gesture. “I’m willing to overlook it if this time she pays more attention to it. It is my daughter’s doll she is playing with. Tell her I’ll meet her as she wants.”

The woman gaped, closed her mouth, then gaped again, her eyes jumping from the doll to the former belle before her.

Do not smile, Scarlett thought. It would ruin the effect. And it would only give her another thing to complain about.

Still, she could not help the twinkle in her eyes. Mrs. Elsing huffed, taking the doll abruptly from Scarlett’s hand, and leaving dramatically from the store.

Even Hugh seemed surprised by such a reaction.

“Your mother is a charming woman, Hugh,” She said with a charming smile she hoped wasn’t too false. “I do hope it’s not too big a bother for her…”

Her manager blinked at her and said nothing. But she could see the sneer that was threatening to spread on his face. And, to her surprise, it did not seem directed at her.

When the day was over, she put the additional money in her chest, locked it, the key safely in her sash. Then she returned home, eager for a long bath, perfumed with the usual rosewater and lilac. She hesitated quite a bit at first, but felt she was not defeated enough to relish on the light lemon verbena of her mother. She watched as the tub was filled, the hot water emitting warm, inviting vapors towards her. She settled in it with relief, closing her eyes as she relaxed.

At one point in their marriage, Rhett liked to join her. Or when he didn’t, he seemed to like scrubbing off her skin gently, his hand wandering on her body, and soon...

She blinked the memory away, flustered and frustrated. It was gone. All gone. Never to be retrieved. The only thing she might hope for now was friendship. Love? She wanted it. But with the current events, she did not dare to dream it. Not with her new resolution, and her newfound responsibilities.

She was a strong woman. She had lived without him. She could do so when he leaves.

She left the tub and called for Pansy to help her. Once she felt ready, she joined the children and welcomed their salutations. Wade was still staring a bit too hard, but as he met her gaze, his worried eyes softened and he smiled. Looking at the clock, she called for supper and led them to the dinner table.

Rhett was still not here. But who knew if he’d come? She tried to shrug it off. Who knew?

“How was school, children?” She asked as they settled.

“Miss Polt was mean to me!” Ella whined, her little mouth trembling with indignation. “She said I wrote like a… a… like an ape! I don’t even know what an ape is! I have never seen one!”

Scarlett scowled. How dared she told Ella that? Couldn’t she see how it was affecting the little girl?

Oh, if she could see her… 

“Oh my darling, I’m sure it ain’t so!” She protested, her newly-found mother pride tested acutely. “That old spinster is just jealous!”

“What is a spinster, mama?” Ella looked at her with wide eyes.

“It’s a… a bitter old lady without a husband.”

“Oh, but Miss Polt is not old…”

“Yes, but she’s still bitter as if she was old!” Scarlett relented, not liking to be questioned, even by her own daughter.

She sighed.

“And you, Wade?” She asked pointedly.

“School was fine.”

She smiled at his attempt to appear more mature than he was, his figure straightening with squared shoulders on his seat and an air of affected nonchalance on his face, that was broken by the hint of a grin on his lips.

“I dearly hope so.”

Make me proud, she had said. And she meant it. And seeing him like that, she knew he had understood it and accepted the challenge.

Why, she thought with delight. He is like me, in fact! Her eyes twinkled at the idea.

She was about to comment on it when a voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Sorry for my lateness.”

She raised her head, surprised, as Rhett came into the room with his Indian-like tread. She bit her lips, first tempted to reply they did not expect him at his eternal insolent attitude, then shook her head.

She was decided to have a good time, and she was about to have it!

He raised an eyebrow at her but said nothing.

He sat on his chair and served himself. Wade crouched over his plate, his expression darkening.

Dinner was silent. Not exactly uncomfortable, but not exactly easy as well. Thankfully, there was Ella, who, with all her mimics and clumsiness, managed to lift the tension that was building. When the plates were cleared, she went bravely towards Rhett and tugged at him.

“What are you doing, little Ella?”

“Coming with you for the story, of course! You weren’t here yesterday, but surely, you would like to hear the rest with us!”

“Oh, really?” He said, his brows however set in a dismayed curve. ”Well, in fact, your mother told me, but I thought…”

The girl nodded eagerly but did not seem to pay attention to the second part, nor the expression of his brows. Scarlett looked at him pointedly. He shrugged, taking Ella’s hand in his, letting herself be guided by her.

Scarlett almost laughed, memories of another little girl coming on her mind, before it stayed painfully in her throat. Apprehensive, she stared at them.

“Mother?”

She blinked, then nodded towards Wade, putting her right arm around his shoulders, half to lead him, half because she felt she needed some support before entering the room.

She was going to do as if nothing was amiss. Nothing could go wrong, actually, so what was she being a ninny for?

The last time with the children was enjoyable. And now, with them, at least she knew he wouldn’t dare to be too disagreeable.

She closed the door and placed herself at the center, between Ella and Wade. She smiled at them, not looking at Rhett who had settled himself on the handle at the little girl’s side.

“Ella,” she began. “Would you mind recalling what happened last time?”

Her daughter did so with a few roundabouts means, coming and going as she remembered the details, but Scarlett felt with satisfaction she had the essentials. She nodded towards her approvingly and continued.

“It took several seconds before Solene realized it. The emerald had not reached the floor.

“Oh, what had she done? She thought distraughtly. She had foolishly thrown away her best chance at escape, and all in the wrong way! She was supposed to throw it at her feet, not at him!

“The pirate looked at the emerald and his eyes were glowing.

“That’s because emeralds are the greatest!”

Scarlett looked towards her daughter, her lips curling upward with a proud satisfaction.

“Oh, you like emeralds, sweetheart?”

“I do!” Ella exclaimed with an eager smile. “There are like your eyes.”

“This compliment was easy to fish, my dear,” Rhett commented.

Scarlett felt some movements from Wade’s side, but her attention was so deeply fixed on Rhett she did not comment on it.

“What do you mean?” the little girl protested.

Her mother smirked before he had the time to elaborate more and said softly, almost in a conspirational way: “Don’t pay attention to your Uncle Rhett. He’s just bitter because he’s a poor fisherman himself.”

Rhett roared in laughter, while Wade added with malice: “It’s true he did not catch any the other time.”

Scarlett’s smile widened.

“True, indeed,” She said. “But let’s come back to Solene. The pirate was still looking very eagerly at the emerald, so very distracted he did not really pay attention that the girl was thinking, and thinking really hard. At least not until she had finally found a plan to achieve her goals.”

“Funny, it reminds me of a day I had in jail.”

The improvised storyteller nearly scowled, but then, as she remembered it, she couldn’t help but recall not only the indecent suggestion, but also, according to what she now knew, the fact that he had actually believed in it, and had certainly been about to propose. Oh, if only she had had gloves that day!

“Oh yes,” She could not help but flutter her lashes, caught in the moment. “I do remember you were pretty distracted with my curtains, that day.”

He grinned. Oh, how easy it seemed to be, to do as if nothing had happened! Like this, she could almost talk of anything, and be sure it would not lead to quarrel!

“I sure was.”

Ella bounced eagerly on the sofa.

“That’s a story I would like to hear one day!”

She winced. Once again, it had been too close to reality. And then, how could she tell such a story to Ella? It wasn’t suitable…

“Another time, sweetheart. But as I told you, in this story, the pirate was so distracted by the emerald Solene had time to find what she could do. And find, she did! For Mary carried with her a big bag with all of her books. Because, you know, she really loved them. A lot. With one of them, she knocked him out, leaving his body to fall on the road with a loud thud.

“Yes, she defeated the mean guy!” Ella cheered, before cocking her head with concern. “Oh, is he dead?”

Scarlett chuckled.

“No, he’s not, sweetheart.”

“Oh, that’s fine. But then, that’ll mean he will go after Solene and Mary!”

Her eyes had widened with such a realization, making her quite alike to the doll she was so fond of.

“Without any doubt,” Rhett commented, his white teeth gleaming as the twinkle in his eyes. “That must have been one hell of a book. And he might not be very happy.”

“Indeed,” Scarlett huffed, though her mischievous smile gave her away. “But he deserved it.”

“Oh, really… Tell me, Wade, do you think he deserved it?”

Wade had such a dark and serious look on his face that Scarlett bit her lip, anxious of his answer.

“He’d deserve to be shot.”

Silence.

Scarlett fidgeted, her eyes wandering from Wade to Rhett and her face stuck in a frozen scowl.

What could she do? What could be the most appropriate answer to that? Certainly, it must have been innocent on Wade’s side, and he certainly did not know who this character had been created after? Or maybe…

She froze entirely, torn apart.

“That’s not really nice, Wade,” Ella commented.

“I supposed he did, in a way,” Rhett said, his body straightening on the couch.

“Well…” Scarlett intervened abruptly, her voice raising higher than she would have liked. “Solene and Mary continued on their way and left him behind. They ran and ran, until they felt sure there was enough distance. The road was in bad shape, with so many hard stones that it pierced their shoes and hurt their feet. Still, they did not dare to leave it, as they didn’t want to get lost. But that wasn’t the worst of it. The day was hot and humid, and the clouds were already dropping some water on them. Why, and they felt hungry too! It felt as if they hadn’t eaten in days, their tummies screaming in agony like an old skeletal cat begging for the scraps of a table. It… hurt so deeply it was like a knife plunging over and over in their stomach…”

As she stopped to take a breath of air, she saw Ella looking at her with wide eyes, as if she had grown another head. She realized that in her tirade she had crouched little by little, her arms crossed over her belly as the memory came before her eyes. She blinked, cleared her throat and squared her shoulders. Her eyebrow raised at them, but as she felt Wade’s hand holding hers, she relaxed and squeezed back. In his eyes, she saw he remembered it as she did, and she saw such devotion and love it warmed her inside.

In such a tender moment between mother and son, she did not notice Rhett’s hand had at that time raised towards hers, and that it closed when he realized the boy’s gesture. His face softened, but still, it went unnoticed.

At least, except for Wade who frowned when Scarlett continued. That last part, she did notice, but did not dare to remark on it. She continued.

“Finally, after many hours on the road, they came across a house. Before Solene could stop her, Mary knocked on the door eagerly, demanding help.”

“Mary trusted certainly more the kindness of strangers than Solene,” Rhett reflected.

“She did,” Scarlett replied, her brow rising.

“She was lucky to have Solene with her, then.”

She blinked. Then shrugged it off. “The door opened and an old peasant welcomed them. She offered them food and shelter, and when came the time for tea, she questioned them.”

“What is it, that you seek?’ She asked.

“’I want a full heart.’ Solene said with determination.

“The woman scoffed.

“That, you’ll never get. Your sort does not work that way. You’ll always have some part missing, and maybe will come a time when you would want to give it away.’

“’Oh, I will!’ Solene cried. ‘ And why would I want to give it away?’

“The woman did not answer, but turned toward Mary, asking her the same question, more softly though.

“I don’t want anything but to know my friends and family are safe and sound.’ Was her answer.

“The old lady smiled and put her hand on Mary’s.

“’Your heart is bursting with love, my dear. You give too much, you do not give it a rest.’

“’How can I give too much?’ Mary asked. ‘when I don’t even feel like I’m giving enough? Love is such a glorious thing, it raises you up till you’re so high you can touch the sky and communicate with angels! It’s the communion of two beings, their hearts singing together the same song, their souls melting into one…”

“Oh, that’s so pretty!” Ella’s hands joined as if in prayer.

“That’s weird,” Wade crossed his arms, his lips set on a pout.

Scarlett smiled.

“I doubt Solene was that much lyrical,” came Rhett’s amused remark.

“Maybe,” She huffed, before continuing with mischief in her eyes. “I dare say her reaction was more along the lines of ‘well, I suppose it must be, if so many people get so excited over it.’”

Her husband smirked. She continued.

“The old woman shook her head, amused.

“’Young girls,’ she said. ‘do not make love too big a thing. It cannot give you everything in life. Let me tell you of the story of the lady turned beggar and you’ll know I tell you the truth.’

“’There was a lady who lived in a big castle all alone. Her parents were dead, and she didn’t have any friends…”

“How sad!” Ella cried.

“Yes, it is,” Scarlett replied. “’The lady was very lonely, and all day and night she wandered around her castle, sighing and weeping. All the people around her heard her cries, but did not dare to comfort her, for, with her pale skin and white clothes, she looked like a ghost. Not to mention she was not very talkative. For everything they said to her, she always nodded, always said Aye. So people tended to believe she was an idiot.”

“That’s not really nice,” Ella pouted, refraining a yawn. ‘I feel sad for her.”

“Indeed. Only in books could she find any comfort, and even more so in love stories. For it was her truest desire, for her soul mate to find her and sweep her off her feet and take her away with his white horse. But each day, he would not come, and each day, she had to read another book to comfort herself.”

“She must have had a lot of books,” Wade commented.

“A lot. So much there was almost no place for anything else. All were romances, for with time it became all she could think about. By day, when she wasn’t wandering around, she would wait by her window, a book in hand

“But what if her prince came and she did not pay attention to him?” Ella asked, her eyes slowly blinking as she tried to keep them open.

Scarlett chuckled.

“It may have played a part. But sad as she was, she did not think of that. And then one day came a strange sound from the door of her room…” She stopped, feeling her daughter’s head on her arm. “Ella…”

“Not sleepy,” Ella protested, stretching her arms as if to prove a point. “Was the lady afraid?”

Her mother smiled softly.

“A bit. But at least she had a good night of sleep, and it kept her from being too much scared. Wade,” She called. “Would you be a dear and escort Ella back to the nursery? I think it’s time to stop.”

“I will, Mother,” The boy nodded. “Come, Ella. Goodnight, Mother.”

“Goodnight, children,” She said as she kissed them.

She stared at her children, Wade leading his little sister with his arms on her shoulders. He seemed used to this, and she wondered if it was a role he had taken to himself, to be her guardian.

“Wade’s growing up.”

She jumped, then relaxed.

She knew he was still a bit vexed by his attitude, but she did not remark on it. She did not know exactly what to do about it.

“Too quickly, I believe.”

“You’ve certainly improved with him.”

“I guess I have.” Scarlett paused a moment, reflecting. She sighed. “It’s surprising how…”

“How what?”

“I never thought I could feel it, but I do. I guess I’ve been so blind all that time. You know, I used to think something was wrong with me. I didn’t want my children. I didn’t _know_ what to do with them. I know, I said it over and over. And it used to drive me mad, the idea of having someone clinging to my skirt when there were so many things to do, so many things to see. Not to mention the pregnancy which meant I couldn’t control my body anymore. Oh, I wanted to dance, I wanted to sing! I was so young, and I wanted everything. But when I saw them, I saw my mother shaking her head at me. And then you, and Melly, and Mammy. Duty, duty, and never fun! And too many people judging me! That was how I saw it. But now… I’m beginning to see it can be fun. And so, so gratifying. I guess in a way I should thank you. I never thought it could go that way, at least not for me. But when you left me, I had no one else to compare to. No one else… here, I mean. It made me reconsider what I truly had and what I could do.”

“Scarlett…”

She froze. She had talked too much, again. She realized how difficult it was to close doors that had long been neglected in the past, and that had cracked in such an abrupt way the day before.

She shook her head, putting a pleasant smile on her face as she rose from her place.

“Forgive my musings. Why, I must look a fright, talking all gloomy like that! The day had been hard on me. I should be going.”

She turned away briskly, her smile still placated on her lips.

“Are you going to avoid me all the time?”

She froze on the way to the door and squared her shoulders before facing him. Then she sighed, with a more genuine twitch of the mouth.

“I suppose the occasion had been lost long ago, don’t you think?”

He chuckled. “I suppose it had.”

She smiled softly.

“Goodnight, my love.”

It was said in a final, determinate way. Not overly sentimental, it was a statement of truth. She felt oddly satisfied by it, certain that if it worked for Rhett, it would work for her too, despite the light beats of her heart telling her the contrary. She would say it over and over until stopped meaning anything entirely, until it became a habit done without emotion and engagement. So when it’d be time to say goodbye, she’d be ready. She had decided so, and nothing was going to prevent her from getting her way.

She saw his widened eyes and mouth slightly agape as she closed the door and that satisfaction did not leave her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Thanks for the kudos and the comments. I appreciate it.  
> As always, I do not own Gone With the Wind. Nor Robinson Crusoe, by the way.

As she came back from the store at the beginning of a rainy afternoon, Scarlett had two new resolutions: luring the street urchin that came lurking once again near the sweets in and trying to find some use to him, for his cattish silhouette that had barely managed to escape this morning quite touched her to the guts, even though, non-analytical as she was, she would have not known what to answer if someone asked her why and how; and finding a way to attract new customers.

But as she entered the house, now darker with the absence of the few sun rays that generally managed to find a way through the curtains, another came to her, suddenly, and she decided to take action. She was a new woman, after all, strong and (soon to be) independent. She could do it. And in fact, doing it would prove it. It would be a proof for Rhett, indeed, a way to show him she had changed and would certainly not be waiting to know whether or not he wanted her.

Which he didn’t. Damned him!

She did not even let others take time to question her will and asked for the curtains to be taken down immediately.

Thus why Rhett found her one hour later, bossily ordering around the servants of the house, coming to each window to see if it was done according to her wishes, sometimes perilously escaping the fall of the heavy fabrics, but not nearly the waves of dust.

“By God, Scarlett, are you alright?” He asked, his wide eyes taking on the scene before him.

“Of course, I am! Prissy, don’t you dare hold these curtains like this! Why, you will get them all wrinkled!”

“Are you considering making a dress out of it?”

She turned towards him, staring a moment before turning back.

“You think I’ll need to?”

“Of course not,” Rhett’s irritated reply came to her, though she barely registered this.

“I will need lighter curtains,” She mumbled through her teeth, deep in her thoughts. “Light gray, maybe. Or cream… Cream is good.”

“Why the sudden need to redecorate?”

“I needed to see the light. Why, it’s so gloomy it looks like a mausoleum!”

“Well, I’m glad we think likewise. Though you certainly did not seem to think so, before.”

“Well, I do now. Am I not allowed to change my mind?”

“You seem to do this a lot these days…”

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett Butler, you lasted less than two days! I was almost worried about you not having anything critical to say about what I do. I thought you might have taken ill.” She finished with a coquettish smile.

He shook his head, amused. “Scarlett, I… “

“Why, I look all dirty and sweaty now!” She loudly complained, touching dramatically the fabric of her dress as if to prove her point. “Pansy! Would you mind preparing me a bath?”

“Yes, Miz!”

“There will also be a need to choose another room for Wade…” She pondered absent-mindedly.

“And it is necessary to decide it today?”

“Why, of course not!” She said with her sweetest smile as she turned away. “Just giving it some thoughts before… Well, I don’t know… Now, if you excuse me…”

She could already see him shaking his head at her.

“Scarlett, what did I say about avoiding?”

She bit her lip.

“I’m not avoiding you!” She protested, her hands waving lightly. “I’m preventing you from getting all the dust on your nice, dark suit. I wonder why you stay so close to this… construction site as you may call it. It would be a shame, indeed if there was anything on it…”

She stopped, cursing herself for her ramblings.

He chuckled. “Whatever you say, my dear. But I do believe we need to talk.”

“How so?” She turned towards him, questioningly, before turning towards Prissy, who, in her hurry, had managed to let go of the curtains she was holding, efficiently knocking her mistress on it as it unfolded on the floor. “Prissy!”

She saw her husband laughing at her from above, as she tried painfully to raise. He reached out to her and she gladly took his hand. As she stood, she realized how close they were, and she stepped back, hoping to escape his warmth, his presence. Yet, his grip on her was strong.

“Well, before you turn the entire house into an even grander construction site.”

She fluttered her lashes, hoping he would let it go.

“How you do run on, Rhett… It’s just a little… arrangement.”

“Just a little, eh?” He raised his thick, black brow at her, his eyes gleaming with good humor. “I do believe we do not share the same meaning of ‘little arrangement’. But do go on, Scarlett, have your bath. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later.”

She blinked, confused.

“Plenty?”

He released her, a blank expression on his face settling so quickly she thought she might have dreamed it, as a wishful thinking of her.

“Well, I do believe, living in the same house, we will have moments when we can’t avoid each other.”

She was about to retort “oh, so you are avoiding me as well”, but then she realized it would have been admitting something she had been denying minutes ago.

Still, he seemed to have noticed it, for in his eyes twinkled with a tiny hint of triumph.

She huffed and turned away before making a fool of herself.

It was not that being in his presence was bothering her. At least not in _that_ way. As always, it had the knack to stimulate her, to make her want more than she already had.

And that was the problem. No matter how many times she told herself to enjoy the present moment, no matter how many times she wanted to say she was just bidding her time until he leaves, there was this reminder that indeed he would go.

Thus her raising early in the morning, coming early to the store, and busying herself more than usual until dinner time came.

She needed to practice more. She had leaned so much on him, never realizing it. On him and Melly. And now she was unsettled by an invisible threat and she couldn’t go past it.

There was also this matter of pride. She had told him too many things. She didn’t want to say more, because saying more would be the loss of her. She knew it. And she knew the more she would stay with him, the more she would be tempted.

Just her dilemma. Wanting to stay away from him to avoid danger and needing to see him, to carve his very presence into memory until she felt he was as much part of herself as Tara.

Tomorrow, she’ll be stronger, she told herself. Tomorrow, she wouldn’t have to avoid him. Tomorrow, her heart would not beat that quickly at his sight, nor her body react so warmly to his.

One by one, she let go of the jacket, and then the petticoat. All black, light silk falling to the ground with a soft sound, little waves of dust from her previous project escaping from it. Bustle and corset went next, and she wondered how she had dared a few times forgetting these parts. She had been too much under the weather, maybe. Crinoline was coming back, she heard.

The water was satisfactorily cold as she entered it and she sighed blissfully. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling as the scents came to her.

She felt more at ease, and ready to continue her day. Her ideas were clearer, she found. But as she let her thoughts wander, the image of Tara came to her, filling her with a nostalgic feeling. The red clay of Tara, and the fields that should now be about to be cut… Would the harvest be good? She certainly hoped so. Will’s laconic words did not say anything contrary.

As she saw her skin wrinkling, she called Pansy and dressed herself.

The black servant girl was brushing her hair, and she suddenly wanted to talk about Tara with her. She wanted, no, craved, the peaceful feeling that came with the reminding of her childhood home, and that with one that knew exactly what it was all about. But still, the words got stuck and she bit her lip. Maybe it was useless, she told herself. Tara was hers. Maybe it was better if it stayed that way.

She was putting her jewels on when Wade knocked at her door, a sudden timid expression on her face that made her know immediately he had something to ask her, that he doubted she would accept but wanted to ask nonetheless.

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Wade? “

“Mother, can you help me with my assignment?”

“Oh,” She shrugged. “What do they want you to do?”

“They want me to choose a book and sum it up.”

“Why, I don’t know… Maybe you can ask your Uncle Rhett…”

Wade avoided her gaze.

“Uncle… Rhett is with Ella.”

“If I didn’t know you, Wade Hampton, I’d say that’s a big lie,” She stated pointedly, before remembering his face as he pretended to be sick. “But never mind. Or your Uncle Ashley?”

Wade grimaced. “He will say a lot of words I don’t understand. In the end, I’ll be more lost than I already am.”

Undecisive, she looked into these soft brown eyes and the quiet plea they expressed to her.

“I want to read it with you, Mother. Will you read with me?”

“If you want to.”

He grinned.

“Thank you, Mother.”

She blinked, then composed herself.

“Do you have a book in mind?”

To her surprise, he shrugged and took her hand, leading her to the library.

They stared at a few shelves, before deciding to separate to select a few books, as both had no real idea what they were looking for, but did not seem to want to tell the other that, nor accept the first one coming. It was with Wade’s insistence that they didn’t, and Scarlett suspected he wanted to spend more time in the room with her, and that it was the way he found to do it.

Left on her own for a moment, she looked with curious interest this room she had never really thought to step on, with these shelves that seemed to have for only limit the ridiculous height of the ceiling.

Her eyes stopped at one series of leather-bound books and she shuddered. The Arabian Nights. Certainly, how could anyone read that long?

And yet, she itched to see what it was all about.

“If you’re looking for a book for children, my pet, I’d not recommend them.”

She jumped, almost falling from the scale.

“Oh, why so?” She said as she regained her balance.

“Careful,” Rhett scowled, before his features softened. Then he smirked as she stared at him. “They’re… scandalously indecent. Not to mention the illustrations.”

“Oh. Oh!” She blushed, scandalized as he laughed at her reaction. “You’re unbearable, Rhett Butler!”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling as she hit him lightly on the shoulder.

“I got one, Mother! Oh. Hello, Uncle Rhett. “

She saw her son freeze with the book in his hand and wondered at the gaze between the two, and the conflicting expression on Wade’s face. Rhett seemed undisturbed though. At least at first glance.

“Hello, Wade,” He said. “Robinson Crusoe? That’s a good choice.”

“… Yes, it is.”

“I believe you will like the main character. I know I really liked it when I was your age.”

“… Maybe.”

Wade’s little mouth twitched, and she decided to put a stop to this awkward meeting. She took the book from her son’s hand, made a great show of turning the pages, then closed it.

“Well, then. Let’s do it.”

And so indeed they did. They settled on the big couch of the study, Wade insisting for his mother to begin:

“ _I was born in the Year 1632, in the City of York, of a good Family, tho' not of that Country, my Father being a Foreigner of Bremen, who settled first at_ Hull…”*

As she read aloud, she had the surprise of feeling his head slowly coming to nest on her shoulder. She felt the satisfaction of someone hanging over her words, setting her as the unique center of attention. Her experience as a storyteller was brief, and sometimes it felt like a discussion. Though enjoyable, she found she quite liked to be the quiet and absolute focus of this scene.

A scrap from her Southern Belle’s past, Rhett would have jeered. Let him talk, she thought.

It came to her mind once what it could have led if Ashley had asked her such a task. But then she shrugged with the careless negligence of a child rejecting an old toy for new ones.

Soon, she let Wade read his own part and let her mind wandered to Rhett’s previous words. She could see why he liked it. She remembered his own stories, and the pride he had in describing each adventure, each time grander than the other.

And yet, his own father never approved of him, from what she had heard.

As Prissy cried for dinner, they both jumped from the trance induced by extensive reading and recalling. They quietly put the book on one of the shelves and joined the others, the soup already fuming in their bowls. Ella, too eager, had already burnt her tongue on it, but it did not stop her from asking them what they were doing. Wade answered shortly. Rhett was surprisingly quiet, his eyes wandering in the distance as if he was pondering a business of great importance.

It was Wade that finally cut the silence.

“What do you think of Uncle Ashley, Mother?”

From the corner of her eyes, she saw Rhett’s spoon stopped on its way to his mouth, his eyes boring on her with a frown.

She fidgeted in her seat, uneasy.

“Why, Wade… Your Uncle Ashley is a kind man.”

“He was certainly a good husband to Aunt Melly, that’s right?”

She froze. Had he heard anything about her past behavior?

“I guess so. They loved each other very much.”

“I wish he would remarry.”

As she felt Rhett’s inscrutable gaze on her, she measured her words carefully.

“I believe in time he will.”

“It’ll be good if he did,” Wade continued with an air of false innocence that unsettled her. “I like Uncle Ashley.”

She felt like she could hear an angel pass.

“Ah, dessert, finally!” She suddenly said with an eagerness that did not fool her husband as it was finally brought in the table.

“Swift, my dear, swift.”

She ate the blancmange of that day more than she should have, maybe. And yet, it did not escape her notice that the discussion had not continued.

Yet, she felt hope as Ella went to Rhett to lead him to the study. It was almost with a sigh of relief she closed the door behind them all, taking care to have Wade by her side.

She did not understand what was going on with him, but felt it was better not to let him out of her sight.

“So, where was I?” She said with an affected coquetry, poor attempt to cover the hidden tension she still felt. “Oh, yes, I remember. And then one day came a strange sound from the door of the room. Feeling uneasy, she took the time to find something to protect herself. Just in case.”

“Another book?” Rhett asked.

She shook her head, her smile becoming more genuine. “No. A poker.”

“Ouch. I feel already bad for the intruder.”

“She opened the door carefully, her heart beating as she imagined what could provoke this.”

“Maybe a thief?” Ella suggested.

“Or a chimney sweeper.”

“God’s nightgown, Rhett! Why would a chimney sweeper come unaware like that?”

He waved lazily at her. “One never knows, with your stories.”

She felt the satisfaction of this admission, for it meant he hadn’t yet figured it out.

Or at least he had decided to humor her.

“Or maybe a thief coming as a chimney sweeper!” Ella relented, determined.

“It could have been, darling,” She crooned, feeling bad for having almost forgotten her. “But as she opened the door, she faced the handsomest man she had ever met.”

“A prince!” the little girl shrieked.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Ella,” Wade scowled. “Handsome men aren’t all princes.”

“True enough, Wade,” Rhett said with a smile. “Some are the worst scoundrels imaginable.”

Wade did not answer, but she felt him straighten against the frame of the couch.

“So, this other character,” Rhett continued. “Where does he come from?”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Does that interest you?”

“I’m asking, am I not?”

“Fine,” She sighed, irritated. “He comes from the kingdom of Cadland. Happy now?”

He smirked.

“How many brothers and sisters?”

“Well… Does it matter?”

“More than you know. Generally, a firstborn from a big family has his own inheritance, so one might think he’s freer to marry where he sees fit. A second-born, though… he may be more likely to marry for money.”

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett! That’s absurd! Why, when Pa died, Tara was divided into three parts.”

“It’s true the will of your father has never been found, and there was no son, though generally the inheritance comes to the first-born.”

He seemed to enjoy himself so intently she wanted to continue until she was right. Just to prove her point. His eyes were glowing mockingly at her, and she was decided not to let him win this round!

“Rhett…”

“Can we continue?”

She froze. She had totally forgotten the children were here. She composed herself, her back straightening on the couch.

“Thank you, Wade. I thought your uncle Rhett might never finish with his questions.”

“Well, you did tell me that each detail had its importance.”

“Quoting you, I remember.”

“What happened to the lady, mother?” Wade relented.

She raised an eyebrow at him, tempted to scold him for his insistence. Then she composed herself.

“As she saw the man, she fell utterly in love with him. She saw him as a gift from God, who had finally taken pity on her loneliness. And it seemed to be confirmed as he opened his mouth:

“’Oh, my lady,’ He said. ‘Fate has brought me to your castle and with its push, made me climb to your window. But now, I understand its call, for it was true love waiting for me behind these walls…’”

“That’s a pretty speech.”

“The lady was ecstatic. Her dreams were coming true exactly as she wished them to be. He opened his arms to her and she went to him eagerly. They shared a kiss…”

“Gross,” Wade commented.

“… And soon he proposed marriage to her.”

“That’s romantic!” Ella squeaked, before cocking her head. “But wait… wasn’t the story called ‘the lady that turned beggar’?”

Scarlett smiled. “Indeed, Ella. Soon enough they were married. Discreetly, and so quickly that when it ended, she was still surprised by such a turn of fate. And yet, he was here, and he said such sweet words. Day by day, she was more and more in love. Yet, when the morning after the wedding came, she found herself waking up outside her own castle, the man she just married in front of her.

“’What, my lord husband!’ She asked. ‘Why am I here, with only a shift on my back?’

“’Why, my lady wife,’ He said. ‘From now on, what was yours is mine, and I can do with it as I want. And I decided I did not want you anymore. But I’ll keep the castle. It suits me fine, and I intend to make it my own permanent residence, where I will invite all my friends for the most lavish balls anyone could imagine. Why, it was so gloomy before I was tempted to leave before even the deed was done. You’re a poor company to keep, my dear.’

“’And this is why,’ the old woman told Solene and Mary. ‘you shouldn’t make such fuss about love. You might lose more than you bargained for. For the lady in the end lost her castle, and had nowhere else to go once it was done.’”

“Well, this story is certainly not fit for the old cats’ ea…”

“Can you finish it so we can return to Solene?” Wade interrupted.

Rhett frowned.

“Wade!” Scarlett exclaimed, surprised.

Her son lowered his head, but she could see his expression had darkened.

“This story is too long,” Wade complained. “When does it end? Can’t you jump at the moment when Solene gets her heart back?”

“Wade…!” Rhett’s voice raised an octave.

Scarlett raised softly.

“It’s alright, Rhett. Wade, can you come with me? We need to talk.”

She looked at her husband with a plea in her eyes and he nodded with a sigh.

She put firmly her hand on Wade’s shoulder and felt as his head lowered as they left the study. Irritation came to her as he would not cross her gaze. Yet, she felt him trembling more and more as finally they reached the parlor.

As she closed the doors behind them, the irritation had turned into anger.

“God’s nightgown, Wade Hampton, what are you…?”

But he was the one to explode first.

“I’ve heard it, Mother!” He cut her furiously. “I’ve heard everything! I was there! When Uncle Ashley came… he told Prissy to go with us to the park. But I couldn’t. The more I waited, the more I had questions… I was… I wanted to know… So I… told Prissy I had forgotten my vest. I went home and then… I heard you. He was screaming. He was hurting you, you said…”

The memories came to her and she felt helpless stopping it.

“He wants to go!” He cried. “He wants to go, but he cannot until the story is over! He’s going to leave us, just like he always does. Just like he left when we left Atlanta the first time. Just like he went away with Bonnie…”

“Wade…”

“He’s cruel, and I want him gone now! I want him…”

A sob prevented him to say anything more. She put her hands around him, wondering if it could be enough, and tried to pat his back lightly. Like Ellen would have done, certainly.

She shook her head. No. It never would be like Ellen did. Oh, what could she do? She had managed to convince him to go to school when he didn’t want to... But now?

“Shh… It’s alright, my boy, it’s alright…”

“Mother!” He relented weakly. “I’ll protect you. I swear it, I’ll protect you!”

“What is this nonsense, Wade Hampton? I don’t need protection. I’m not going anywhere. Have you not heard what I told you?”

Wade’s embrace on her only tightened, and she felt at lost on how to proceed.

“I want you to be happy, Mother.”

“I want to be happy too, Wade.” She sighed, realizing. “That’s what the questions about Uncle Ashley were all about, isn’t it?”

“Wade, look at me.” She put a finger under his chin to raise his head toward her. “Your Uncle Ashley is a kind man. But he would never make me happy. Not as a husband should make happy his wife.”

“And Uncle Rhett would?”

“Your uncle Rhett and I… we have a particular story together. You and Ella should never have been affected by this, and I’m sorry you have. But I need you to know something. With or without Uncle Rhett, we will survive this. We will live through it.”

She sighed.

“But you mustn’t be rude like that to Uncle Rhett. You love him so, I know it. Why, he’s been in your life for so long, and I remember you were always all in awe over him!”

“I was not!”

“You were. Oh, yes, you were. And that’s alright. I love him too.”

“But he’s hurting you…” He protested. “I’ve heard you, you said it!”

“No, he’s not,” She stated firmly, before adding more softly. “At least not anymore, and not as much as we did in the past. I can’t promise you anything, Wade. But no matter what, let’s try to make the most of it, alright?”

“Alright, Wade?” She repeated when no answer was given to her.

“Alright…” It was given begrudgingly, but she knew he saw her point. She sighed and looked at him pointedly.

“So no intervention to stop the story?” She looked at him pointedly.

He shook his head.

“No more, I promise!”

“Good boy.”

“And… sorry Mother. I didn’t mean it….”

“I know.”

“I like your story!”

“Oh, Wade. I’m glad you think so. And I know why you did that.” She caressed his hair, touched by the sincerity in his tone. At this moment, he looked so much like Melly it broke her heart.

“And… And… I lied,” He admitted, his lower lip trembling as he did so. “I… I love Uncle Rhett…”

“I know, Wade.”

“But I love you too, Mother…” He stared at her, his eyes bright with a trouble that shook her. “Am I allowed to love you both?”

She blinked, surprised.

“Why, of course, silly. Why the question?”

“I thought you might not be happy if I still was with him… And then, there was Bonnie, and even when she was there… It was not the same…. And then, if he truly loved me, truly cared for me, why did he leave me? Why did he leave us? Oh, Mother, I’m so angry at everything! I’m angry at Ella for always talking when I want some peace. I’m angry at Prissy for not leaving my books where I want them to be. I’m angry at Raoul Picard for not wanting me to play with him and his friends. I’m angry at Uncle Rhett for not being here, for leaving me, for hurting you…”

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Wade Hampton! You’re being very silly, today. He loves you, Wade. He loves Ella! He… This… situation is difficult for us all, that’s all.”

Damn you, Rhett Butler! She cursed internally. Why should I be the one to give you excuses?

“It’s going to be alright, sweetheart,” She kept whispering instead.

Her grip on the boy strengthened as she tried to contain the flow of emotions that was coming to her. It was begging to get out, and she bit her lip so hard she felt the taste of blood in her mouth.

“And I’m… angry at you…”

She paled.

“Oh, sorry, Mother!” He cried as he hid his face on her chest, his embrace tightening around her.

She stayed still a moment, at lost not only with what he had said, but also with the turmoil of her own struggles, one part of her outraged by the fact that even after her efforts, her son could still feel negative things against her and that wanted to tell him so, the other guilty and as confused as the child before her. She tried to find something to say, something that could only set it right for both, but none came to her that fit that description. She felt she had to renounce one to satisfy the other.

In the end, only one answer came to her.

“You can. You can be angry at me,” She almost choked on that. Oh, how could she make it more bearable? She tried smiling it off. “Why, I am often enough angry at myself.”

He raised such hopeful eyes at her that she did not dare to correct her former statement, painful it was for her pride.

“Really?”

Her gaze softened.

“Really,” She admitted. “It’s alright to be angry from time to time. We all make mistakes. We all do things we shouldn’t do, or things that we don’t want to do.

She kissed his forehead, her hands grazing lightly his cheeks.

“Go to bed, Wade,” She said. “Everything will be brighter tomorrow.”

He nodded wearily, looking at her one last time before going to the nursery.

She sighed, paused a little to get a grip on her emotions, then went down. The door of the study was still half opened as she approached it, and she could hear the voices coming from it. Quietly, she went closer, approaching before she became too noticeable to hide, but enough to observe.

“… you keep this secret for me, Ella?”

“Yes, I will!”

There was Rhett, the love of her life, his white teeth shining in contrast with his swarthy skin, his eyes twinkling as his deep, warm voice rang in the room. Ella was on his knee, his arm around her little frame and a happy smile on her face. She felt her heart squeeze by such a touching family moment. A moment she wanted to keep to memory, for she didn’t know how long it would last.

She stared a moment at them, before finally entering the room.

“I believe it had been too much,” She said softly after making her presence known. “How about we call it a day? Come, Ella, go find Pansy. It’s time to go to bed.”

The little girl paused, undecided.

“Go on,” Rhett nodded at her with an encouraging smile. “You’ll need your beauty sleep.”

Ella nodded back excitedly, then went to kiss her mother, before disappearing from the room.

Eagerly, Scarlett took a glass of brandy and swallowed it down.

“Well, I do believe you needed that nightcap,” Rhett remarked lightly, before pausing. “I guess it would be better if I talk to the boy.”

“I guess it would be better if you did.”

She took another sip.

“I’ve always thought boys were troublesome. I should have known Wade would cause some too.”

“Oh Rhett, you and I know girls can be as troublesome as boys. Or even worse,” She paused, blinking away the memories. She took a big breath of air, hoping it might give her strength. “You’ve been such a huge part in their lives. Wade and Ella. It saddens me to say that even I am not enough. I’ve made so many mistakes I don’t know if everything can be corrected. But… I want you to know that, no matter what… I will never stop you from seeing them. How could I? They need you.”

I need you, she wanted to add. But this would have ruined the effect.

He stared at her for a long time, as if trying to see if she was saying the truth. Or at least she had the impression of it. She felt outraged with how uneasy it made her feel, for him to consider her like that.

“My, you’ve grown, Scarlett,” He finally said.

“Don’t rejoice too much on it,” She said, irritated, her eyes still not fixed on him. “I will not always be that… conciliant. Especially when I’m not the only one who made mistakes.”

She heard him chuckle. “I certainly deserved it. At least a little. And… I did not expect you would. I would have been disappointed then.”

She grinned. Then composed herself.

“Goodnight, my love,” She said, as she rose to take her leave.

He took her wrist and turned her towards him. His eyes were intense on her, and she tried to keep her heart from jumping too much at his touch, at his gaze. First came trouble, as often it was with him. Then came irritation. How dared he make her question her decision? He was the one about to leave! She met his gaze with her own determinate look, daring him to look down. Oh yes, in this game, she’d be the one to win, this time! She was going to get over him! He would not be the one to bring her down!

He let her go with a short laugh.

“Goodnight, Scarlett.”

She blinked, then nodded. Her steps were quick as she left the room, but as she tried to close her door, the frame clinked but did not close. Unsettled by the half opening, she went to her bed and buried herself under the covers.


	8. Chapter 8

Heads turned as the Butler family came to Mass on that Sunday morning. Eyes widened, and tongues barely turned once before sharpening once the couple's backs turned.

Scarlett scowled at the noticeable whispers on their way. Her hand tightened around Ella's as they approached the altar. She felt Rhett's palm on the small of her back as he guided them to their places. On her was also Ashley and India's gazes, both insistent in different ways, but she ignored it.

She bit her lip as the whispers continued. Couldn't they stop, just one day of their life? What she was living was of no business to them! Her fists tightened at the thought.

She jumped as Rhett's hand touched hers. Her own shook, then relaxed as he took it. She released a breath, before looking at the children. Wade's jaw was clenched tightly, and she felt he was angry as well. It was making Ella feel ill-at-ease, for the little girl was looking at his side with worried eyes and did not dare to talk.

She put her remaining hand on Wade's, hoping the strength she had found with Rhett's grip on her would somehow be transmitted to him. She could not bear seeing him like this.

He looked at her, surprised, then nodded, his features softening.

The Mass began, and she felt herself wanting the prayers in Latin that her mother used to say.

But then, it's been so long since she had actually been to one. She had always been too busy, and somehow, she had not thought of it. Now, it seemed like an old spectacle, where everyone was eyeing everyone, hoping to catch the next scandal and checking to see who wasn't there.

Now, it felt meaningless. God had not done anything for her. To the contrary. He had taken Melly, her baby, Bonnie…

Bonnie.

She closed her eyes, then focused on the words. She whispered the prayers when it was needed, joined with her voice when they sang. But her heart was not in it.

She had never been deeply religious, for all of Ellen's teachings. In her mind was deeply printed the idea of hell and the fate of those who did wrong, but the other things had been lacking in presence for her. They were things that were said, but not things she accepted wholeheartedly.

 _Mea culpa_ , her mother said in her memory. _Mea maxima culpa_.

She was already bearing the weight of her mistakes. Why should she glorify in it in such a way?

She shook her head and squeezed Rhett's hand.

He was not any more religious than her, she knew. It was mostly for appearances, and he had stared at her for a long time as she suggested it. But then it was needed. What a better way to keep gossip down? She thought.

Or maybe it only fed it. She could always feel their gaze on her.

When the Mass ended, she took advantage of people coming towards Rhett to slowly escape their notice, fluttering from one false greeting to another towards the exit. She met India's gaze and gestured her to wait for her outside.

Then, when she was sure it could not be remarked on, she joined her on one corner of the church, one of these corners that had certainly never seen the sun.

"I can't be long," She told her warningly.

"Don't worry, Ashley is certainly diverting your dear husband by an attempt at apology" India stated accusingly, her arms crossed. "He was quite out of his depths when he came back from your house. I had to endure a long discourse about how he certainly had made things worse for you and he felt helpless as a friend."

She handed the doll, before gesturing her to follow her.

"I hope it will not be so easily broken, this time," Scarlett could not help remark.

India scowled. "Last time was a way to contact you. I know what I do."

Scarlett put the doll back in her pouch, then froze as she saw where they were going. But her face did not betray the beatings of her heart as the image of Bonnie and Melly came into her mind.

Not now, she thought. Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow was the day…

Only maybe a little frown indicated some puzzlement.

"You want to meet in the cemetery," She stated in too calm a way. "Why? Do you want me to swear something on Melly's grave?"

The expression on India's face said it all. She snarled.

"You filthy little rat!"

She was about to leave, offended that she would use Melanie's name to get what she wanted from her, and her skirts twirling around her with a soft sound as she did, but India stopped her, taking her by the wrist. Her look was desperate.

"Your husband is preparing some mischief. And I want to know what. He's been calling at our house, mostly to talk to me into selling Twelve Oaks. He's becoming more and more insistent; I even have a letter from him! Something is going on, I'm sure of it! If you have any sense of honor, you'll help me."

With one quirk of the brow, Scarlett stared at her.

"You already have your idea on my honor. What do you have to offer me in return?"

"I'll accept you do whatever you want with my brother," India snarled. "God knew I once tried to stop you, but it seems both of you are too helpless to be saved."

Scarlett frowned.

"Why, India Wilkes, what kind of woman are you? Selling off your brother, and that without consulting him? My, even I wouldn't do such thing with my siblings. Though…"

"You've ruined my life already. I wouldn't bear losing Twelve Oaks too. At least not to someone who's known for always having an ulterior motive. The others may have conveniently forgotten he stole the Confederate money, but I do not. At least, with you, I know what to expect."

"Nice. But I'm sorry to say… You're far too late for that kind of… payment. Your brother does not interest me. I love my husband."

"And he loves you, it is known," The sarcasm cut her. "Why, everyone's asking when the divorce will be."

"Well, if you don't have anything to offer," Scarlett scoffed, outraged.

"Wait!" India cried. "I'll give you back the mills!"

She rolled her eyes.

"The mills belong to your brother, not you."

"If you've seen him lately, you'd know my brother has no head for anything else than the past, and sadly, you're included in it," India scoffed. "I don't understand it, but it's like talking about you is the one thing that keeps him sane, and I can't bear hearing your numerous false accomplishments and how you were so good with Melly. But as for the mills, It is I who drive it."

"Oh. And I was wondering about the obvious errors in the accounts."

India blushed angrily.

"You have no idea what it's like, to maintain our status in the society when there's barely any food on the table! I was not born to do such things!"

Oh, if she could strike her, she would!

"I know what it's like, to sacrifice it to keep the bellies of my folk full, so do not dare fight with me on that. I don't care what you're doing with the mills, if it does not prevent me from keeping my promise to Melly," Scarlett scolded, outraged.

Then calmed herself. In her mind, she remembered Wade's words, telling her how he was not accepted by Raoul Picard and his friends. She remembered Rhett's hurtful words as he told her again and again how short-sighted she was, and how it impacted Bonnie's future. She remembered his quest for acceptance towards the Old Guard.

This was what she had to do, she realized. Not only for her, but also for the children. Something to look up to and that would make life much more easier when Rhett would go. Somehow, the idea had always been there for the taking, and it had been stronger at Melly's death, when all she wanted was to talk to others about her pains and sorrows.

This could be a way, she thought.

She composed herself, her eyes dancing as she pondered her next move. She felt as if Rhett was at her side, advising her.

She almost smirked. Rhett advising her on something that would go against his plans. How laughable!

"No, let's be clearer. Let me tell you what _I_ want. I want my children to be taken care of. I want them to be happy, to be accepted by those around them. I don't want my mistakes to obscure any future they might have. My and their entrances to a good society. That's what I want, and that's what you can help me with. That, and the letter you've talked to me about. This is the price of my help."

India's face was flabbergasted.

"You want me to give you the proof of your husband's threat against me and my family?"

She looked at her with all too innocent eyes.

"Oh, because you expected me to believe that without proof? Think again, India. You want my help. You want me to nose about my husband's business, potentially betraying him. You have no idea what it could cost me. This is my price. Take it or leave it."

She reached out for her and waited. India bit her lip, then joined reluctantly. They shook hands, before the latter searched on her pouch.

"By the way, be a little more cautious next time with the ledgers," Scarlett nagged pleasantly as she took the envelope Ashley's sister handed her and put it on her own pouch. "There are other ways to get money than putting the wrong numbers on it."

She turned away, not without seeing with pleasure the face of India Wilkes fuming and sweating as if hot water had been spilled on her. Then, when she was sure to be out of sight, she stopped, processing. Was it true? And what if it was? What did it mean?

Was it why he stayed in Atlanta? But then... why making it seem it was because of their deal? Was he hiding something from her?

"Oh, you're there."

Scarlett almost jumped at it. Rhett had found her, the children at his side, and was looking at her curiously.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

She nodded absent-mindedly and accepted his arm as he led them home.

Lunch was eaten quickly, and soon enough they parted for their different activities of the day.

Mother and son came in the parlor, and Wade brought back his book, opening it at the page they had left. Some time after, Ella settled on a chair, her little legs dangling on it as she listened to their voices.

Rhett joined them later, by the end of their reading session. He had brought a book with him, but looked at them curiously.

Innerved by his gaze, she turned towards her son.

"Wade," She asked. "Will you play for me?"

He nodded, smiling at her, before coming to the piano. She followed him, handing him the sheet music for him to choose. He looked one after the other, then stopped. She frowned.

"Are you sure about that one?"

"Yes, Mother," He nodded. "Will you sing with me?"

"If you want to."

She nodded back, sat by his side and waited for the first notes. It came hesitantly, and at first she was tempted to correct it and take the lead. But when he looked at her, she smiled and he continued more confidently. She joined him as his voice stumbled over the words.

The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home.  
'Tis summer, the darkies are gay,  
The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom  
While the birds make music all the day.  
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,  
All merry, all happy, and bright.  
By 'n by hard times comes a-knocking at the door,  
Then my old Kentucky home, good night.

Rhett's eyes were intense on her, and she could not escape them. She didn't want to. The memories overcame her, filled with "what ifs" she had no answer to.

No, it was no use, she thought. No use. And that day was so, so uneventful. Rhett had been invited and had talked with Doctor Meade. He had been his insolent self, delighting in telling them truths they didn't want to hear. She had been called to sing, but all of her songs were blue, so, so sad. And then he had come towards her…

Oh, how could she have been so blind?

She stopped, her voice stuck on her throat. Blinking, she tried to get rid of the headache that was suddenly taking over her. But it was no use.

Next to her, Wade stopped abruptly.

"Mother!"

She blinked.

"It's alright. I'm just a little under the weather, I believe," She said softly. "I'm going to take a nap. But do go on. I'll join you for dinner."

And with that, she escaped to her room and called for Pansy to help her prepare. When she was on her gown and wrapper, she found herself truly at lost with all the pieces of information she had, and all the responsibilities that were awaiting her. It all built up on such a burden she felt she could not bear it anymore.

She took a breath, then released it. Opening her eyes, a wish came to her.

Home. Tara. She wanted someone to talk about Tara. No, _needed_. Some hope. Some haven of peace she could invoke to feel good. Even for once.

But no one was there. No one but… Pansy.

"Talk to me about Tara, Pansy," She asked suddenly, her voice betraying the greed for the evocation of her childhood home. "Talk to me about home."

Pansy blinked, taken aback by such a request. Then nodded.

"Yes Miz. 'ts a bioutiful lan', wiz a most fe'tile soy. An' coton. Coton ev'iwhe'e…. He'e, I see Po'k, comin' from the ketchen… Prissy's al'eady t'ipped over someting and it burnt the meal. An' yet there are still these perfumes of magnolia… lilacs and lemon verbena. Master Gerald just came from his hunting, with his big great horse. He has jumped too high again, and Mistress is certainly going to scold him. Yet, it will not stop him. The red clay of Tara is still stuck on his clothes…"

Scarlett looked at that girl's expression, coming from a guarded one to an inspired and soft face as she talked. She gaped, realizing.

"Why do you talk that way?"

The girl froze, then took an expression similar to one she had seen too many times on Prissy.

"Wha' you mean?"

"You... you talked in another way than before!"

Pansy's gaze became harder suddenly, almost defiant.

"Isn't it expected of me?"

Scarlett huffed. Then stared closely at her.

She had known her for so long. And yet, how could she have missed that?

"Next time, talk like you're able to do. I'm sick of lies."

"You were born in it."

"You're insolent," She scolded. "I could have had you whipped for that."

"But you won't."

She paused, her mind wandering. Her poor Pa, who had little fits of anger, but never dared to hit anyone. Ellen and her soft voice, never raising her hand for anything but a caress…

"Did anyone at Tara…?"

The girl shook her head.

"No. No, Tara was a good plantation. Mistress Ellen and Master Gerald were good to us. Others may not have been so lucky."

"But… then…."

"You can't understand it. You've never lived it."

"I've worked as a field hand…" Scarlett protested.

Pansy glared.

"While still knowing you were born as a lady. You weren't born a slave. You've lived in a world that was next to us, but not so close. You can't know. You don't even know your Mammy's name."

"… I want to, though."

"Why now? Why you?"

At first, she could not answer. Why now?

But then, she remembered all the questions she had still unanswered and the words came easily through her tired mouth.

"Because I don't want to be blind anymore to what's happening around me. Especially when it concerns people and things that I love."

The servant girl looked at her for a long time, before nodding.

"Her name is Esther."

Scarlett blinked and nodded back. She felt suddenly very weary.

"Thank you," She said softly, before dismissing her.

Pondering a moment, she took the letter that was still burning in her pouch and looked at it carefully. Then, with a quick move, she opened the drawer of her vanity and put it with the papers of divorce. She locked it and put the key back to its place.

She'd think of it tomorrow.

She went to bed and let the darkness overcame her.

When she woke up, she insisted on coming down for supper, and gladly ate with them. Her appetite was not great, but she tried to hide it from Rhett and the children's gaze.

When it was over, Ella came to her, her wide eyes on her.

"Mama, will you tell us the story tonight?"

She pondered the question, but memories came back to her, too gripping.

She'd think of it tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow was… tomorrow was…

She shook her head.

"Not today, if it's alright with you, Rhett."

She looked at him, attempting to smile. He stared at her for a long time, then nodded.

"Of course, Scarlett. You look pale. Take some rest, you'll need it."

"I will," She said wearily, before kissing his cheek. "Goodnight, my love."

She did not take time to look at him as she turned towards Wade and Ella.

"Goodnight, children."

They mumbled the greeting back to her and returned her embrace. She kissed their foreheads, then took bravely the stairs, climbing them as if nothing was amiss, and everything alright.

But when she closed the door of her room, the headache had not disappeared. She took off her wrapper and went to bed. The covers were cold as she entered it, and the pillows too soft for her. She felt as if she were about to choke.

She moved right. Then left. She paced a little in the room. Went back to the bed. Right. Left. She sang a little lullaby, but nothing worked. So, irritated, she jumped out of it and went down.

The clock announced five past eleven, and she felt amazed by how time seemed to carry on so quickly without her noticing. But more amazed was she when she realized her body had already led her to the piece of furniture of the dining room that carried most of the bottles of alcohol, when it's been so long since she'd taken more than one or two glasses.

She sighed, looking at the decanter and its companion.

She took one glass. Then two. Then she stopped counting. Her thoughts were too quick for her to catch them, so she enjoyed watching them run like horses on a race.

_Watch me take this one!_

She blinked, took another glass. The thought went away as it came.

She was still in a hazy state of mind when Rhett came later in the room. She felt him freeze as he saw her, visibly not expecting to find her there. His steps quickened though and soon enough he was at her side.

"Still awake, Scarlett ?"

"I couldn't sleep," She mumbled.

He sighed, taking the seat next to her. He stared at her carefully, and she felt herself scowling under such scrutiny.

She was no sick woman to be looked after!

"Are you alright?" He said softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"You ask me this a lot, you know," She looked at him pointedly.

"Well, not mentioning the amount of brandy you might have taken, but… you're not one to faint easily…"

"I did not faint!"

"You almost did!"

"Oh, you!"

She bit her lip, took another sip. Then raised, feeling the energy in her too much to bear. She paced, coming at first to the window, then turning towards him. The words came tumbling from her lips.

"After everything… Wade's angry with me, the Panic, that ugly, ugly nightmare… And the servants that suddenly are not what they are… That kid that's always around the corner with hunger in his eyes… And India's petty war and lies against me and my folk. And you, you, YOU!"

She looked at this quirk of the brow he had now, on his too seductive face, and these lips that were too stretched to fool anyone. He was about to laugh at her.

"You're not really making sense, dear."

"Oh yes! Because Rhett Butler is always making sense! Rhett Butler always has the answer to everything!"

She waved her arms dramatically, her head held upright.

"Rhett Butler… Such a mysterious man…" She shrugged, almost stumbling over her own gown. "Why, even with more than five years of marriage or so, you're still very much a mystery to me! I don't even know your middle name!"

"And I'm quite content for it to stay that way. You get bored so easily, dear. Be cautious…"

As he tried to raise, she pushed him on the chair, her eyes dancing and her hands on his shoulders to maintain him there. And also for support, for she felt she might fall if she didn't. Her forehead was too close to his for her sake.

"What's your middle name, Rhett?"

"I don't think…"

"What's your middle name?"

He scowled.

"Damn you, I've never seen you so drunk before."

She grinned, cocking her head.

"You've seen it. And I dare say you took advantage of it, you sneaky man."

"Oh, yes?"

"When you asked me to marry me!" She cried with a false show of shock and outrage. "Why, how indecent, with Frank not yet cold in his grave! And you kissed… you kissed… Well, and I felt so dizzy…"

"I guess I had not really thought this through…"

His eyes were dancing though.

As she attempted to stand, she felt the world turning around her, her body suddenly too heavy for her. Ungracefully, she fell into his lap and as if it was the most natural thing, his arms circled her frame, setting her more comfortably against him. Her head nestled against the crook of his neck as her feet came dangling on his right side.

She smiled lazily.

"Mmm… Don't worry though. I'm not going to ravish you."

"Ravish me?"

"Well, like you did that night. You were like a wild animal…"

"An animal, really?" His tone was painfully guarded. "I don't remember it being that… unpleasant."

"Yes, an animal! But no! It was… it was… oh, damn, Rhett, I never thought it could be done in such a way! The other times… I always thought you expected something of me, and I absolutely didn't know what it was. Don't take it in the wrong way, it was enjoyable, but then, that time… It's one of the first times I really thought you were completely true with me, not holding back…"

She froze, raising her head toward his as that terrible, terrible idea came to her.

"That was the time you stopped loving me, right? That's what made it so easy, because you did not care anymore ?"

"By God, Scarlett, have you actually listened to what I've said?!" He scolded. "If I cared not, it would never have happened."

"Oh."

Absent-mindedly, he was caressing her knee and she felt tiny sparks of fire from it.

"So what's stopping you?" He mused. "From ravishing me?... Hypothetically, I mean?"

"I don't think I can hold you like you did to me," she replied, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world for that question.

"I suppose you can't. But I can."

"Oh, but then that would be you ravishing me, not I."

He chuckled. She pouted.

"What's your middle name, Rhett?" She relented. "I promise I won't laugh…"

"You're terrible," He remarked with a quirk of the mouth. "I wonder how much of this you'll remember in the morning…."

"Oh, Rhett…" She began, stopping to try to remember something that would give her an answer. Her eyes widened comically as she put a finger on her mouth. Unfortunately, the answer would not come. She shrugged. "No matter what your middle name is Butler! I'm going to live without you! It is I who will be set free in the end, not you! And when I'll do, I'll become the most wanted woman in the state! Why, many men will be at my feet, and you will not be able to do anything about that!"

"I'm not sure I'll like that. Though I pity the men who'll try to take you…"

"Of course you won't, that's the point! It'll serve you right. Leaving me again and again, never being clear with poor o' me when it comes to feelings and all… I love you, you know?"

"I'm beginning to get used to it, with how many times you say that."

"Oh, that's for me to get used to. So, like you, in the end, it won't mean anything. Like you, the more I will say it, the more it will stop making sense!"

"That's silly. Like me, you say? How much it worked, indeed. "

"Yes, it'll work! If I try enough, it'll work! And then, contrarious as you are, that will be the time when you finally realize you loved me all along! But it'll be too late, yes, too late! I'll be the one saying goodbye!"

"I'd like to see you try. How about that time you ask me to fight with you? For me? For us?"

"Oh, I fight plenty! I fight even against myself! But you… You're not fighting. You don't want to."

"I might be, and you just don't see it."

"Oh, you infuriating man!" She glared at him unconvincingly, then shrugged with a lazy smile. "Well, what's a woman to do? Maybe I'll fight, maybe I won't."

"What a determination. I remembered you chased a certain gentleman many years, and for me, you barely last one."

"Well, you did tell me you could not bear for me to chase you like… like… " She stumbled over the name, as the Wilkes were now associated with such unpleasant things she could not bear to say it. "oh, no matter the name of that prudish ninny. I know saying his name will only make you angry and make me feel utterly stupid."

"Oh, darling, you have no idea the effect you have on me when you're calling him that…"

She fumbled over the end of the handle of her gown, completely unaware of his burning gaze as her mind focused on other priorities.

"You know, if this story goes on and on like you seemed to intend to last night, not really suggesting endings, sometimes forcing me maliciously to go into details like that, you might be forced to stay…"

"That's the point, silly woman… Would you want that?"

"Of course I'll want that!" She protested. "But I don't want you to hate me because you feel trapped. And, well… I already prepared some things, just in case. It would be a waste to throw that all away."

"Who's trapping who, I wonder…" He said, his eyes on her speculatively. "Some things, you say?"

She cocked her head, her hand reaching out to caress his cheek.

"You're looking like that again…"

"Like what again?"

Her thumb grazed his skin.

"Like a cat eyeing a mousehole, hoping to catch a mouse."

He closed his eyes, his features relaxing.

"Well, I do have that one mouse I'd like to catch. Though to be true, she's actually a cat as well."

"Not so easy to eat, uh?"

"Mmm. Have I ever told you you looked good enough to eat?"

"Why, Rhett, I didn't know you had cannibalistic tendencies."

"I didn't know you knew there were such things as cannibalism."

"That's in Wade's book," She stated softly. "Robinson Crusoe."

"Ah."

His eyes were open now, and his mouth so close to hers she could feel her breath mixing with his, hot and heady.

"Oh," She cried suddenly. "And Wade will become president!"

"President, uh? You have such high expectations."

"The best of the best. And Ella… Ella will be… an artist!"

"And what will she create, this artist of yours?"

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett! I can't see the future."

He roared in laughter.

As it calmed down, she felt him release a breath, his head coming towards her in an absent-minded way. She leaned down, attracted to his scent. Her eyes fluttered, then closed as her nose touched the crook of his neck.

"Do you know? You smell like my Pa…"

She felt him smile, and for a moment, she wondered if he had kissed her on the hair, like he did before.

"Not sure I like the comparison…"

"Leather, brandy and… well, Pa didn't smell like cigars. But still, I like it. Reminds me of home. " She looked at him with bright eyes. "You are my home, Rhett. "

He sighed.

"You're mine too," He replied so softly onto her hair she actually doubted. "Cruel and destructive little cat as you may be."

A comfortable silence surrounded them, as they tried to process what had happened. Scarlett, from her side, certainly had trouble doing so. Her head was so light now, her mind so numb it seemed nothing could make its print on it. She frowned.

"I'm not going to leave you. I might do as if I had. But you won't get rid of me that easily. I'll haunt you, Rhett Butler!"

"I expect nothing less from you. And I'll haunt you too, you know. If you try to do this. I doubt there'd be a place on earth where I will not be able to find you."

"Somehow, I think you will," She shrugged, easily accepting this answer. "I guess I'll wait, then."

"You better."

"I wonder who's that mousecat you're trying to catch…" Scarlett wondered with a pout. "Not that I'm jealous, hear me out. You had had after all a lot of women, and you've told me over and over how you've met so many prettier ones than me…."

"I've said too many things," He sighed. "Isn't it obvious?"

"Well, when it comes to you, one has to wonder what is obvious and what is not."

He chuckled, mumbling against her hair. His grip on her was becoming stronger and stronger, so much she felt he was going to smother her.

"Oh, Scarlett. You clumsy, inconsiderate little witch. You have really no idea how easy it was, to fall right back in again. How lonely and dull were the days in Charleston, as your words came ringing in me again and again, forcing me to feel again. How many times I wanted to be begged to stay. And when I've heard of T… But it doesn't matter. I lo…"

"Oh, Rhett, I hate this table so much! It's always so big, so long, and it's so gloomy when there's no party to host!"

He looked at her, bewildered, then laughed. "Do you know, sometimes I believe you still have the attention span of a child. No wonder where Ella got that bubbly side."

She froze.

"A child. Yes, I may be…"

"Scarlett?"

"Will you come with me, tomorrow?" She asked softly. "Will you come to see her?"

He stiffened. Then nodded.

"Yes. Yes, I will, Scarlett. "

"Thank you," She said with a grin as she rose from his lap, before looking at her surroundings with a hazy gaze, her figure frail and visibly quite intoxicated. She stared at him one last time, her smile turning secretive as she uttered the words. "Well… Goodnight, my love."

And just like that, before she even managed to make her way to the door, she fell with a soft tumbling of silk and velvet, and he was on her, taking her in his arms like she was a porcelain doll. He looked at her intently, his jaw clenched; but slowly his lips set on a tender smile as he shook his head.

"You troublesome woman. Don't think you're going to get rid of me that easily…"


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the kudos and reviews! I always appreciate to read them.  
> I think this story will not really be accurate according to the reality of the history of the United States. But let's see where this plot would lead me :)

The night Melanie Wilkes died, Rhett Butler left Atlanta, persuaded that Scarlett O’Hara Hamilton Kennedy (and accessorily Butler) was gone from his life and he would never feel anything for her ever again.

In fact, he was persuaded he might never feel anything ever again. Gone were the excruciating pain, the sensation of his soul being torn apart piece by piece and the ablaze wounds his marriage and the death of his darling Bonnie had left on him. Only a void, an almost comfortable blankness surrounded him. Yes, Scarlett was welcome to her Ashley. Her words meant nothing. It could not mean anything. Nothing ever meant anything anymore. It was too late, far too late. He was weary, old before his time. No light in his mind, only memories of a time long gone, and an image, that of the boy he had been, so careless and free.

To Charleston he went then. People loved renegades on the way of redemption, especially when they begged and repented for every sin real or imaginary they might have committed. They loved a good story, when the hero finally settled down and have a homely wife, a few children and a house with three stores.

Bonnie had paved the way. His little angel had had the wonderful ability to draw people to her, a gift that her mother seemed to have forgotten she possessed once she got money in her mind (and thank God she did, for she was at her most powerful when she was aware of it), and it had greatly helped the seeds to be planted when he went with Bonnie to the city. As it had been for Atlanta, she had soon been the key to every door.

And now, with her gone… He was the poor Captain Butler, who had lost his beloved daughter and with a wife so cruel to leave him to grieve on his own. He was cajoled, caressed so much it had been as if suddenly everything he had done, from his provocations as a boy to his dubious businesses when he came to a more mature age had been erased, as surely as his name had been by his father when he refused to marry that silly Martha Gilling when the wheel of their carriage forced them to spend more time than necessary with one another. The remembrance of these minutes with her babbling about the wishes of her mother and the babies they would have was still very painful to him.

Still, he went on his quest, decided to settle his roots here, near the ones of his family.

It would be enough, he thought. It had to be enough. He was old and tired. He was daughterless, wifeless and nothing could hold him back.

But surprisingly for him, he soon realized it was not. The challenge had been too easy, and now that he did not feel anything, it was worthless.

He came back two weeks later because he said he would. But as he came back, memories went back too, smothering him, choking him. It was not just the obvious monstrosity of the house, it was also all the stories in it. All the laughter, all the pain, all the hopes. All buried under heavy curtains, dark tapestries, and gaudy pieces of furniture. Here was the entrance, where Bonnie welcomed him when he came back from work. Her chubby silhouette was swift on her feet, and her laughter echoed in every room. He followed her numbly, prepared for the other ghosts of his past. Here were the stairs, where Scarlett lost their child, a child she had never wanted, and almost died… He almost…

He did not feel anything. No, he did not. And when he saw her again, he was convinced he most certainly did not.

He had built his life around her. But this was not the woman he had married. This frail, teary-eyed woman was not the vivacious, stubborn, tough as nails, selfish to no end girl he had chosen for himself.

It couldn’t be, he thought. She had never been broken. Not by Ashley Wilkes’s begrudging rebuttals, not even by all the terrible things she lived, from their perilous escape to Atlanta to the death of her father, and then of Frank Kennedy.

By him? The idea disturbed him more than it should have.

But as he saw her speculative gaze on him, that was when he understood. She wanted him to see that. Once again, she was playing with him.

He left a few days after, deciding he was never coming back.

When Christmas came, he decided nonetheless to send gifts to the children. But none to Scarlett. She could see, then, how he did not care about her anymore.

January passed. He felt like he was running mad with boredom.

One night, Todd Smith came to him. Suggested him a business, in which a lot of money could be gained. And quite a reputation too, for it was an important matter for the Government.

He almost accepted. But then adventure did not call to him. And Todd Smith always had a knack for setting people he worked with in a more terrible mess than they once had been, for all his good intentions.

So he decided to come to Atlanta instead. At least, he knew he would be entertained.

He had expected her coldness. He had wanted it. Why, it was the proof he’d been right all along, and her words had meant nothing at all. It provided him a reason to stay away as much as possible from that heartless woman.

The last day, as he noticed she was still wearing black, he even remarked on that.

“Why keeping this hypocrisy?” He had remarked on nonchalantly. “You’re not in mourning. For that, you would need to feel.”

She had looked at him with these outraged green eyes, where he almost thought there was pain in it. Almost.

“I feel a great deal! Hadn’t you believed me when I’ve said…”

He didn’t want to hear that. It was too late. Not enough.

“Black doesn’t suit you, my pet. You look like a crow.”

“It suits me fine, Rhett Butler!” She had retorted hotly. “It suits how I feel, and how I intend to stay until you decide to return by my side!”

He had scoffed that day.

“Well, then, you might be buried in it, my dear.”

He left as he came, with the appearance of a cool demeanor. He sent a book for Wade and decided to do more would only make her believe she had had a point.

He returned to Charleston, where his mother welcomed him warily. The other ladies, however, seemed to be glad.

When Wade’s birthday arrived, he sent a book. He missed the boy, after all, and was regretting not paying him more attention the last time he came.

This time, no news of Todd Smith. Instead, he overheard in one of his favorite gambling houses a conversation about the suspicion of the presence of an important source of petroleum located in farms near Jonesboro.

The third time he returned to Atlanta, Scarlett was all sweet and flirty. The red had come back to her cheeks and lips, and he could see he had been right in fact. Her feelings were not genuine. This time, he could not help the cruel jeering that came more biting than the last time, for another question was bothering him more than it should have: had she been putting this show for someone else?

Fighting with Scarlett was a habit. It had been a way to make her eyes glow and skin flush. A way where he felt her passion was directed on him, solely on him. And it was a way to divert her attention from what he really felt.

Not that it was important now. He did not feel anything. Only pity, maybe. Certainly not jealousy. He was over it all.

That was what he told himself when he left and went back to Charleston.

Another time, he heard about speculations over farms named Tara and Twelve Oaks. Speculations that would certainly give problems to their owners if it did not stay only in discussion.

He could do something. If he cared.

Which he did not.

Just to prove it, he came back to Atlanta. And this time, it was a whole new Scarlett that was awaiting him.

In his own irritation, he did not take time to reflect that she was actually doing what she thought he wanted. In fact, he had actually forgotten it as well. What he had been looking for had paled compared to what he had imagined in his will to go away. It was another illusion that did not maintain itself once it was confronted with reality.

In fact, how did she dare to try to act like a lady, as if such things interested him? These were for men like Ashley Wilkes, not him!

But it was only when she threw him that vase that he realized what had never really left him. It surprised him, for he was persuaded that everything was over and that he would never feel again. But then, seeing these marvelous eyes on him, their glowing emerald setting him on fire…

He regained his mask, then. Hiding his emotions from hers had been a question of survival and an old habit now. And old habits died hard. She could not know. She could not be allowed to know.

So he left again, persuaded it was for the best for his sanity.

When he heard once again about the source of petroleum, but this time more focused on Tara, he decided enough was enough.

He had to do something. Thus began his attempts at buying Twelve Oaks.

Still, he was surprised Scarlett hadn’t noticed these talks about her childhood home. But then, perhaps she did not have that much occasion to have information, he realized. Her status in the Atlanta society did not permit such information to pass, especially to the ears of a woman who might care enough to stop it. Especially someone like Scarlett.

And from the lack of correspondence with Tara, it was possible nobody had cared enough to inform her of that. Or perhaps the speculators had not gone that far in their projects, and it had gone unnoticed for the moment. Most likely it must be that. Scarlett was not one to stay a long time without news of her beloved Tara.

Twelve Oaks would be the bulwark of Tara. How ironic.

Indeed, why would the infamous Rhett Butler be that hell-bent on buying the ruins of a farm if there was nothing in it?

The fifth time he came back to Atlanta, it was because he could not stay away for so long. And this time, her strategy quite unsettled him, for he felt himself remembering how she had tried to bargain her body for the survival of Tara.

He could not let such hurt on his pride be repeated.

He asked for a divorce, she refused. He offered half of his fortune, wondering what the price of her so-called love could be. She rejected the offer, saying she benefitted more as his wife. He threatened to cut the funds, she talked about his reputation.

Ask me to stay, woman! He had wanted to scream. If you love me, why don’t you say that?

He went back to Charleston with anger in his heart, decided to let her be, her and her damn Tara. It was not worth it.

Thus why he found himself in a very peculiar situation, one night quite drunk in his own mother’s home, as he read once again Antony and Cleopatra from Shakespeare and marveled at the similarities.

“ _O this false soul of Egypt!... Whose eye beck’d forth my wars and call’d them home!_ O this false soul of Georgia, indeed!” He growled. “And now she loves me? How convenient, indeed! And how she shows it to me!”

“Well, I’ll recognize the talk of a pathetic lovesick fool anywhere…” He suddenly heard a sardonic voice in his room, so familiar. 

He raised up abruptly, bewildered by such interruption.

“What…”

“My, my, is it really what I’ve become?” The voice continued. “It might have been better if I’ve been shot by one of these damn Yankees!”

It seemed to come from the mirror, and as he went closer, he realized with horror that it was not his reflection, that of a forty-six-year-old rascal that he had in front of him. It was that of a twenty-six rascal, in fact.

“I must be running mad,” Rhett nodded, amused, towards the apparition of his younger self in front of him. “I guess I’ve seen better days.”

He laughed mirthlessly.

“Are you going to be one of these ghosts that tell me how wrong I had been, like that novella of Dickens’?” He yelled towards the reflection. “Well, I’m afraid to say it’s a little too late for Christmas and I certainly don’t need any ghost to believe I had been wrong! In fact, I delight myself every day by remembering how wrong I am!”

His ghost smirked at him.

“Well, that’s unfortunate. Where has your sense of adventure gone, mate?”

He pondered the questions, his hands on his hips, and his head lowered as he tried stubbornly to kick an apparent spider on the carpet.

“Gone with the whims of a woman. A classical story.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“That woman is the bane of my life!” He cried suddenly.

“Then why are you still running after her?” The ghost relented. “Why are you still doing anything for her?”

He paced.

“I bloody don’t know why.”

“I think you know damn well.”

He had frozen. The laugh was gone. Memories had come to him instead. Memories of hurt, extreme pain, and betrayals. Everything that he thought buried had come to the surface and he wanted to shout his anger and despair at the world.

“She said I had murdered my child!” He yelled. “My child! When she had never felt any maternal feeling in her own miserable life!”

“It was her child too.”

He paced again, enumerating each one of her faults.

“She’s cruel, and destructive, and careless and…” 

“And you can’t live without her.”

He froze. Then shook his head.

“She can’t be trusted.”

“Can you really trust anyone?”

He sat down, defeated.

“I’m tired.”

“Then rest. Tomorrow will be better.”

At these words, he had stopped. His body had leaned back on his chair as a wistful smile crept on his face.

“Tomorrow, eh. That’s her saying. She’ll think of this tomorrow… Tomorrow is another day…”

He had paused, letting himself be observed by the ghost of his youth.

“Are you really going to bury yourself with these old bones?” He finally asked him, before disappearing.

He did not answer that. Instead, at that moment, the darkness surrounded him and he fell into an ungraceful sleep in the desk of his room.

By the morning, his mother came to him, visibly worried.

Judging by her expression, he guessed she must have had heard his delirium from the night. This… did not quite please him.

“Rhett… I don’t want to intrude,” She began.

“Then don’t, Mother.”

She had shaken his head at him. Wonderful, he had thought, another person disappointed in him.

“Don’t do this, Rhett…”

“Don’t do what, Mother?”

“You’re like your Father. When you’re afraid of something, you put others at a distance. What are you afraid of, this time?”

“I am nothing like my father,” He scowled.

“Then why are you doing this? Coming and going, succeeding in making a good name again, but it’s not enough, isn’t it?... In Atlanta, there’s a woman, your wife, grieving for your child and waiting for you to return.”

“You don’t know Scarlett. She…”

“I know enough. Eulalie and Pauline told me enough and though I do not always credit their complaints, I have a hint of what she is. And I know enough to know that whether there is love or not, in this world a wife without a husband by her side always attracts trouble.”

He was tempted to laugh. Scarlett had always attracted trouble.

“And I know your Father,” His mother relented, making him freeze. “I did not love him, you know? Our marriage had been one of convenience, and I loved another. He has never forgiven me for this. And when I came to love him, even taking his side wasn’t enough to make him forgive.”

“Why are you saying it to me?” He shook his head.

“Because you’re making the same mistakes. Well, almost. At least, your father had not the cruelty to be that unpredictable in this behavior.”

“My father…”

“You did not see him when he died. You did not see the pain he had buried inside coming out, until all he could do was express remorse for things he hadn’t done. Be clear with that woman. Leave her or love her. But you cannot go on, going and coming like that. I have suffered enough hypocrisy from him. I will not suffer it from you.”

She shut his door loudly then, and he had well intended to stay that way. But as the day began to pass, he had to admit he was like a hungry tiger in a cage. So he left it and wandered around through the house, until his attention was attracted to a portrait of his father in the corridor.

He saw this man’s face, one unforgivable, unyielding, and yet filled with regrets his pride prevented him to find a remedy for. A man that had loved but had put his entire life in jeopardy when he could have had everything he had been looking for.

He didn’t want that.

But what did he want, exactly?

_I only know that I love you!_

_…Know that I love you!_

_… I love you!_

He had to come back home.

When she would ask him to stay, he would, he decided. He would accept her love when she would offer it.

But it wasn’t love that was awaiting him when he came back. During these days, she barely said anything. Was it too late, he had wondered? Oh, if only she could ask him, so he could be sure of that. If only she could tell him she still loved him…

And then came the beginning of the story. The first night, he had slept by her side, intrigued by that game she was suggesting to him. But still, she had not said it. So he couldn’t help it. By the morning he had made as much noise as he could, and made a great show of leaving, hoping she would beg him to stay, for the love of her.

Instead she had called on his vanity. The minx.

But she had also defied him, and in that he had found again the woman he had fallen in love the first time. She had surprised him in a matter he once thought her lacking.

A million nights might not be enough, he had said. Well, it had been a goddamn lie, even by the time he said this; This woman was in his blood, and she had never left it. He might have tried to. Might have almost persuaded himself he did not give a damn. But as soon as she broke that vase, that was when he realized the feelings had never left him. He had just kept them so buried in his heart and locked it away until he forgot its existence entirely.

And yet, she had had the key all along.

His brave, charming, clever yet oh, so oblivious Scarlett…

She was growing up, he could see that. She was calmer, and her bonds with the children had deepened. Certainly at the expanse of his own with them, he could not help but deplore bitterly. But when she was keeping this story going, a story which was surprisingly little by little distance itself from the reality to take its own form, he could not help but hope. Especially after that day when they went fishing, which was full of promises.

Unfortunately, one good day was not enough to get rid of all the ghosts in the past. And this ghost had always been nagging him, somehow.

Ashley Wilkes. Coming at his house. To see his wife. And daring to criticize the way he was treating her! Why, he even had the gumption to ask him to divorce!

He had been a fool. He had once again believed in her pretty, pretty lies. It was Ashley. It had always been Ashley.

He had to be free of her. He had to!

Oh, he could have broken her bones then, one by one. He’d have held her little body against him until it cracked. 

But when she cried that he hurt her, he felt it like a blow. And as she declared his deepest thoughts to him, declared that she loved him still, with a passion that equaled his, he was left agonizing.

He would never be free of her. He didn’t want to.

Little by little, as he looked at her, he felt her strength coming to him, a new determination to set everything right. To protect her, the children, and that Tara that was the source of her strength. He had to get Twelve Oaks. He simply had to!

As he closed the door, he realized one important thing. In his haste, he had not told he loved her. He had left her in the dark.

In this realization, he had turned back, his steps quick as he revolved in presenting himself at her feet. But when he came back to the house, he found her on the floor.

At first, he thought she was dead. He had stood frozen in place, his heart stopping as he took her in. He felt as if the floor was crumbling under his feet. Once again she was gone to him, without he could ever make it right. She was gone thinking he did not want her, thinking he hated her so much he was about to force her into signing the papers of divorce. His body shook, and once he regained awareness of his surroundings, his feet carried him quickly to her side. It was with the most painful nervousness he checked her pulse, her breathing.

How pale she had looked, how thin! And when he carried her, how light! He had overestimated her strength and well-being.

He stayed with her, begging her to open her eyes for him. He had rubbed her temples with brandy, wettened her lips with it. She had moved then, a little, had opened hazy eyes one minute, before shutting them down once again with a sigh. He had let out a relieved breath he didn’t know he had been holding. She was alright. She would be alright. He had squeezed her hand, kissed the palm of it, that had once been rough and wounded, and that now had regained its softness. It would be alright. They would be alright.

That was when a telegram of the utmost importance came to him, and he realized he had been in for too long. He had to go, in order to make it right. Speculations had led to preparations of actions. One last look at her and he was gone, knowing that if he stayed more, there was no way he could get what he had worked so much to achieve.

And here also lied this uncertainty of his welcoming home. Would she accept him still? Had he not gone too far?

It was with the nervousness of a young boy he waited for her when he returned, his mind full of questions. He had been about to look for her when she entered the study, humming as if nothing had happened. As if nothing had ever touched her. He called for her, and for a moment, he was sure he had seen vulnerability in these green eyes. Then she stopped. She could barely look at him, and barely let him intervene. He wanted to touch her, to look at her. But she was so fidgety, so defiant! It left him so unsure that he had let her go. In his mind was another hope though: would her door be open, like it had been before his outburst? It was with an obvious relief he saw that it was, but as he went for it, he saw it close before him.

By the end of a sleepless night, he had decided to talk with her. But once again, she was avoiding him, truly this time.

This time, he was more than pricked. Why, Scarlett Butler, afraid of him? She had gone to him, prepared to sell her body to him when he was in jail. Even when he had been at his angriest, never had she ever reacted like this, she had always fought with him.

And with that irritation came also a fear, that of pushing her away so much she was gone to him. In his fear to get attached again, he had pushed her away, her and the children, deliberately trying to erase bonds he had wanted to deny the very existence. Not because he didn’t feel sorry for the children. Even when he thought he did not feel anything, there was still the memory of Wade and little Ella, the children he had claimed as if they were his entirely. However it was so deeply associated with their mother that he had feared to show particular affection to them would be betraying deeper feelings for her. And what of Bonnie? His little Bonnie, he could see so clearly in her siblings?

What a fool he had been, throwing away all that time…

But when he managed to catch her eyes over that piano, that was when he realized. She wasn’t afraid of him. She still loved him, as much as he loved her. She was afraid of herself. Afraid of letting him in, afraid to lose him, just as he had been afraid to let her. And just like him who had been trying to live without her, she was attempting to do so as well. Her “goodnight, my love” had been one of the many hints to that, and it had been confirmed by her drunken ranting.

Not that he’d let her. Oh, by God, no. There was no way he would let go now.

The moon tenderly lighted her face as he put her on her bed, making her skin look almost ethereal, and the red of her lips a beguiling drop of blood in the snow.

How he wanted her to open her eyes, then!

“ _Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon_ …” He quoted in wonder.

“Uh?” She seemed to reply with a painful moan.

He shook his head, amused.

“Sleep, my darling,” He said fondly, kissing her forehead. “You will have one hell of a headache tomorrow.”

She did not answer. Instead, she seemed deep into sleep, and he decided to let her be.

But when he closed the door of her room, one little boy was awaiting him, arms crossed and a terrible frown on his face.

Wade Hampton Hamilton. His son in law.

“You love her,” He said accusingly. “You love her, I see that! I’ve heard it!”

Rhett cursed himself for not talking to the boy before. For he knew it could not be as easy as it had been with Ella.

“Wade, you’re still a child,” He sighed. “When you’ll grow up, you will realize love sometimes is not enough.”

Said child glared.

“I may be a child, but that doesn’t mean I’m completely blind to everything,” He protested. “You’ve been hurting her.”

He could not help lowering his head.

“I know.”

“And you’re always leaving!”

He did not answer that.

“Why do you always leave?” Wade relented, his voice tainted with a hint of panic. “Terrible things happen when you do…”

“Your mother is a strong woman, Wade…”

“She is weary. She is always carrying everything by herself.”

“I know,” He said wearily.

“Are you going to stay?”

“I never planned to leave forever in the first place.”

“Then don’t.”

Rhett shook his head.

“No matter what, your mother and me always found a way back to each other, whether we wanted it or not. For what is meant to be, there will always be a way.”

“Can you promise that? That you’ll find a way?”

The boy raised such hopeful eyes on him, so far from the mistrust he had seen he was tempted to laugh. He was decidedly more his mother’s son than he had thought at the beginning.

“I promise that,” he smiled. “But I’ll need your help, little man.”

“How so?” The boy asked, eager. “Can’t you just tell her the truth? That you love her?”

Rhett tried to laugh it off.

“I’m afraid it is not enough. It is your mother that began this game, and I believe she won’t be satisfied until she felt she had won. You know your mother. She’s very competitive. And when she has something in mind, there’s no way she will let it go.”

The boy cocked his head.

“I’m still not convinced…”

“Let’s humor her a little, would you? It can be amusing, after all.”

Wade pondered the matter, perplexed.

“So you want me to… ask a lot of questions?”

“As many questions as you can! Demand to know the story of each character, each little object.”

“I don’t think she will be pleased…”

Oh, it would drive her mad, he thought with a smirk. It would drive her mad, but she would not dare to show it.

“Oh, she will,” He insisted. “You’ll need to trust me. Alright, young man?”

“Alright!”

Well, that wasn’t that hard, he thought, amused, as he saw the boy going with a lighter step. He hadn’t lost his touch, after all.

Satisfied, he went to bed. But here again, sleep would not come. Too many things had happened, and even when he tried to, it escaped him. And oh, how he wished he could get back to her!

She was so near, yet too far. And her words kept playing in his head.

So when he heard a cry coming from her room, his reaction was automatic. He was almost glad she had still that nightmare as he opened the door and came to her still sleeping form.

Except still, she definitely was not. She seemed to be fighting against the covers, a terrified expression in her face.

It nearly broke his heart again.

“The fire! The fire!”

He gathered her into his arms, pressing her soft body against him.

“Shh… darling, there’s no fire… Shh… You’re safe. You’re home…”

“Rhett?” She opened her wide eyes quickly, her breaths ragged and wild. “Where are the children?”

“In their beds.”

She nodded absent-mindedly, visibly still pondering on her nightmare. He rocked her lightly, hoping it might appease her. And it did. But she must have suddenly realized he was really there, because she suddenly stiffened.

“What are you doing here?”

He could not help but smirk at the bewilderment in her voice. He let her go, and sat more comfortably on the bed.

“You screamed so loud I thought there was a banshee in the house.”

“Oh,” she said as she lowered her head.

He raised an eyebrow at her lack of reaction.

“Was it the old dream?”

She shivered.

“No.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She glared at him. He had to refrain from a smile.

“For you to mock me like you did before?”

At least, she still had her bite.

Oh, my silly little cat, he wanted to say. Sheathe your claws. Let me take care of you. Let me heal with you. Let’s escape all these ghosts that surround us. Let’s build a life where they never will find us, never will judge us. Let’s live and love, like we should have before everything happened…

But her stance was still so defiant towards him!

No. She needed to trust him first. And he needed to trust her. It would take time, they both needed to heal. But in the end… In the end…!

“You asked me to go with you,” He finally said. “To see Bonnie.”

Saying her name was still painful, like wounds that had been rubbed heavily with salt. He saw his pain reflecting in her eyes. She was grieving too. She was grieving, and they both had been alone with that suffering…

“I did?”

He caressed her cheek, erasing the last remains of tears. He needed to get her mind away from all of this. Needed to get his own mind away from this.

“You were quite tipsy. You said something about ravishing me, I believe…”

She blinked, the information slowly registering in her mind. He could see the mechanisms of it so clearly now, the wheels turning little by little as the words came to her.

“Oh! I certainly did not!”

Her face bore the most indecent and endearing red that even her rouge never managed to achieve. Seeing that, he wanted to kiss these sweet lips of hers and never let her go. It always made him laugh, how all in her screamed sensuality and seduction, and yet when it came to talk about sexuality, she had all the reactions of a girl that just learned where babies came from.

Yet, something in her reaction also suggested another thing that bothered him.

He raised her chin toward him and looked into her eyes closely. These marvelous, clear emerald eyes that had never hidden their shades to him.

She did not remember anything of last night.

In his heart, there was a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

And yet she had raised the bargain, he could not deny that. She had proclaimed she could live without him. He just had to prove her wrong. Because he was the one who could not live without her. Because each time he left, the illusion of freedom could not survive with the reality of her absence.

She was getting stronger now, he felt it. But there was still that vulnerability, this unpredictability that could be their undoing. She had talked about a plan… What had his charming ignoramus been up too? He might have to watch out. At worst she said she would wait… They had agreed on that. He knew she would.

The game had barely begun, after all. She had shown most of her cards. It was his turn to play now.


	10. Chapter 10

Scarlett did not know what was worse: the terrible, terrible headache of the morning after or the heartache of seeing the one you loved acting tenderly but knowing deep inside he most likely did not feel the same. Not to mention that horrifying nightmare that seemed to be another prophecy of what was about to come. She felt the heat just thinking of it.

Her head hurt as if it had been trampled on numerous times by angry horses. Her throat was so dry she almost jumped on Rhett when he gave her a glass of water. He chuckled when he saw her eager reaction, but she was too engrossed on her own bliss to actually notice.

And her mind! Oh, so hazy, blurry. It felt like she had spent yesterday just laying on her bed, though her last memory was that of her in front of brandy after failing at sleeping. Or maybe it had been a dream. But then, that did not explain the hangover.

Oh, and what a night it must have been, indeed, if she threw herself on Rhett like he seemed to suggest! Shame brought red to her cheeks and she felt like a chastised child.

When he led her to the vanity, she almost froze, remembering the letter and the papers in her drawer. But then she remembered also where the key was. It gave her relief. She sat down quietly, her eyes downcast.

She saw him hesitating, grabbing some of the elements on the piece of furniture. He tried to open the drawer and raised a brow as it did not. She shrugged, her head numb and cold. Then, finally, he found what he was looking for.

He brushed her hair gently, taking his time doing so, almost strand by strand. She did not dare to question him, fearing he might stop. It had been so long since he’d done that! She closed her eyes in bliss, but refrained the moan of pleasure from such a tender gesture. Each stroke brought him closer to her, and she could almost imagine him leaning in as he smelt the scent of rosewater and lilacs from it, maybe drop one light kiss on it, and then continue stroking, up and down until it was all soft and shiny. In another time, he would have brought all the hair on one side and peppered sweet, teasing kisses on her neck and shoulders, his mustache tickling lightly her skin, until it grew hot and passionate and she could not help but lean on him and push her mouth towards him...

She stiffened. No. It would not happen. He would go. She opened her eyes and told him snappily to stop treating her like an invalid. She might have added something about pity, but then her mind was so hazy she could not exactly recall what she had said.

He stared at her for a long time, then called for Pansy.

She bit her lip, regretting his warmth, and stayed silent when the servant woman came to her and helped her get washed, clothed, and groomed. She met her gaze once but could not bear to see pity in it. In her mind was the image of Bonnie, and that little grave that was awaiting them.

This picture was still in her mind when she went down.

Wade and Ella were silent at breakfast, but the kind of silence that is not comfortable. A mournful one, full of questions. She could not eat, but she could not talk either. She wanted everything, everyone to go away. The headache, the heartache, everything that could potentially hurt her.

When they left the table, the little girl handed timidly some drawings “to amuse Bonnie”. Scarlett was tempted to snap at her, to say Bonnie was not there to see them, so what the point? But Rhett intervened more quickly and took it. He thanked her softly, then put it in his pocket.

He put a blue scarf around her neck before they went away and she did not feel strong enough to oppose him. Blue was Bonnie’s color, and somehow it felt right.

They took the carriage and she took care not to touch Rhett, knowing it would awake her feelings and she could not bear seeing them unreciprocated. Not today, when everything was so grey and painful. She looked at the window, at these people who went on in their life as if nothing had happened.

She needed to be better than that. She could not allow herself to be such a ninny. Bonnie would not have liked that. Bonnie’s mother was strong and proud. She was no frail creature to be sorry of.

She accepted Rhett’s hand when he helped her leaving the carriage and held her head high. She squared her shoulders and went on. Yet, her jaw clenched when they entered the cemetery. She tried to maintain a mask of cold serenity, and somehow, she wondered how Rhett managed to do it so perfectly when she felt as if the skin of her face was stung by multiple needles.

There was Melly’s grave too. She would need to visit her later. Not today, no. Bonnie’s was enough for the moment. She felt she could not bear it if she had to do both.

She froze. Then, without turning to Rhett, she asked him the drawings. He took a little time to get them, and if she had looked at him, she would have seen him quite confounded over her reactions, and it would have certainly satisfied her. A confounded Rhett was quite a rare sight indeed. She took back her hand and the tokens, then continued her way.

Bonnie’s grave was very noticeable, and she knew Rhett had limited himself to no expanse for it. It felt too big for such a little girl, and yet it was somehow elegant despite the many shades of blue. Fresh flowers had been delivered, and they filled the air with their sweetness. But the worst thing, the most intolerable thing for Scarlett was that lantern which was still lighted on it. Bonnie hated the dark. But Bonnie was not here anymore to be afraid of it. So what was the point?

And there was still this other, almost forgotten…

Her hand clenched over the drawings.

She knelt before it and put them under one of the pots of flowers, hoping the sheets would not be taken by the wind. Then raised her head.

“Hello, precious,” She greeted, trying to put a joyful smile, though it stretched painfully at her lips.

She touched the deeply carved inscription with tenderness, imagining it was instead her daughter’s cheek she was caressing.

“ ** _Eugenie Victoria Butler_**

_Our little Bonnie Blue,_

_Bright and brave_

_Loved and lost_.”

She did not dare look at the dates. No, she couldn’t.

Loved and lost. She had always wondered at the “lost” part. Was it to say she might return? Was it a call to retrieve her? How cruel to entertain such hope! She couldn’t… They couldn’t….

“See, your Papa came to see you!” She finally uttered, her smile barely twitching. “He loves you so. You are so loved, Bonnie…”

She had to keep talking. If she did not, she would cry and would not know how to stop.

“Are you having fun, up there? I hope you’re not causing too many problems to Aunt Melly and Grandmother Ellen… Don’t listen to Grandpa, he will certainly lead you to mischief… Though you don’t need him for that, do you?”

No answer. But then, that was expected, wasn’t it?

“Oh, Bonnie…,” She repeated. “You are so loved…”

“Scarlett…!”

She felt Rhett kneel behind her. He put his forehead on her shoulder, his hands gripping painfully her upper arms.

Behind her, his body shook.

He was trying not to cry. He was trying to stay strong and stoic. But she could see that he was failing.

She swiftly turned, facing him. His head was still lowered, yet she could see his eyes, bloodshot, downcast and defeated.

She cupped his face firmly, urging him to look at her.

“We’ve already seen the worst of each other,” She found herself begging him. “Please, don’t hide from me.”

He stared at her painfully, his eyes mobile as if to analyze each detail of her face.

“It’s hard not to.”

She tried to swallow the bitterness of it all. But it lay too heavily on her.

“I’m sorry…” She shook her head, the tears continuing from flowing despite her attempts. “Oh, I know what you’re going to say, saying sorry is not enough, but…”

A sob prevented her from continuing and he blinked, as if bewildered and so, so tortured, while she tried to regain her voice.

She felt him leaning on her, his forehead against hers, and his warm hands at each side of her face, but not yet forcing her to meet his gaze.

“It was not true, you know…” She whispered.

“What was not true?”

“That I thought you killed her. I was…”

“Oh, but I did, didn’t I?” He couldn’t help but said, laughing mirthlessly, his despair clear by each spark of it. “If I had not spoiled her that much… If I had not allowed her to jump…”

Mentioning this seemed to be his undoing. He gasped, and she saw tears pouring from his eyes. He tried to turn away, but swiftly, she caught his hands, her fingers closing around them.

“God’s nightgown, Rhett!” She cried. “No one could have stopped her! It was an accident!”

“I killed that pony… But it did not bring her back…”

He shook his head, but he did not attempt to distance himself this time. She let his hands fall on his side and cupped his face.

“Look at me!” She said as she directed his head towards hers. “When I told you these… these… terrible words, I was so despaired. So lost. I wanted to destroy everything apart. I wanted to hurt everyone as much as I hurt. Especially you… You who’s always seemed so unbreakable, so hard to reach since we married… It frustrated me to no end, looking into your eyes, and always wondering what you might think, and if you cared… Oh, I did not doubt about Bonnie. Bonnie had always been the apple of your eyes… I was jealous, you know? I wanted what you had. I wanted what she had…” She lowered her head, ashamed. “Oh, Rhett, I was so selfish!”

Forehead against forehead, it seemed difficult to see which tears were Rhett’s and which ones were Scarlett’s.

“And I’m still like that! Oh, why do I have to turn it once again to myself?” She put her head on his chest, not feeling strong enough to bear his gaze any longer. “No wonder you don’t want…”

Oh, if only she could stop sobbing so! It choked her, and the tears kept flowing and flowing!

“Ssh… It’s alright…” He said softly, and she felt the soothing circles he drew with his hands on her back.

“I want my baby back!” She cried. “I want both of them back!”

“Scarlett…”

He pushed her back. She blinked, misinterpreting his gesture for rejection. But when he looked into her eyes deeply, she could see an intense emotion in them that made her heart ached even more. Something seemed to crack in his expression and he suddenly embraced her fiercely.

It felt like centuries, being held in his arms like that. She did not want to leave, not ever. Rain could have come, the horns of war could have been blown, she would have done anything just to stay like this, nestled on his chest, comforted by his masculine strength and warmth.

“We both said things we regret when we’re hurt, don’t we, my pet?”

She refrained another sob. Oh, couldn’t she stop?

“Oh, Rhett, can’t we stop? Over and over, we hurt each other, and one day I feel it’s going to kill us.”

She felt his fingers sliding under her chin, forcing her to raise her head towards him. He looked at her and she felt amazed by the depth and strength of his eyes on her. His grip on her lessened and he rose. At first, she reached out to stop him, but then came the realization that maybe it had been enough for him. He had done his part in comforting her, and now he wanted to be on his own.

“Come on, Scarlett. We need to go. The children are waiting.”

His hand reached out for her. She gladly took it.

She was expecting him then to distance himself. But he didn’t. He kept her in his arms, his left hand gripping her upper arm and the right still squeezing her own. She froze, uncertain, then leaned in.

His chest was heaving painfully slowly, and she knew her breath wasn’t that much better. Yet, somehow, it felt right. Two parents mourning their child, together, united in their pain and regrets.

“Goodbye, my little darling…” She heard him whisper brokenly towards the grave.

She bit her lips, not daring to say the words, fearing it might be her undoing again.

They stared a moment more at the precious little tomb. And then he led her back, towards the carriage.

They went home quietly, their hands still linked. Until Rhett broke the silence.

“She had a cat. Where is it?”

She froze, then escaped his grip, her gaze away, into the distance.

“It went away the day she fell. It could not bear staying when she was gone.”

An awkward silence followed.

“I will go upstairs,” She finally said.

He nodded absent-mindedly and let her. She stared at him a moment before squaring her shoulders and entering the house. With relief, she took off the scarf and went to the nursery.

There, Wade was playing piano, and she felt almost grateful for it. It gave her an excuse not to talk. To let herself be moved by the music without doing anything in return.

Ella went to her and put her head on her knee. She caressed her cheek softly, but did not dare to look at her. To look at her was remembering that once she had wished her dead instead of Bonnie, and it would only lead her to tear herself apart.

She kissed their cheeks, then urged them to go down for lunch, and excused herself. The headache had returned.

She went back to her room and sat on her couch, trying to find some peace in resting. Yet, peace was not coming. And soon enough, there was a knock on her door.

“Rhett?” She called.

“It’s me, Miz. Prissy.”

She blinked and let her enter. Prissy was still the same, with a foolish grin on her face as if she did not know what today was.

Scarlett was already tired just looking at her.

“Where’s my husband?”

“In his room, Miz. He said not to disturb you. Nor him.”

She nodded and refused the tray she was bringing her. Yet, the girl put it in front of her. Words from yesterday came to her and she eyed her suspiciously. The girl fidgeted over her scrutiny, and when it felt too uncomfortable for both of them, she dismissed her with a sigh.

Then she raised, not bearing the inactivity much longer.

She put her head on the closed door, wondering how he might feel, all alone, in this room where she had put him away. She regretted leaving so abruptly. She tried to hear what was going on inside. Was he crying? What was he thinking?

She sighed. She went down to the servant quarters.

“Pansy!” She called. “Would you mind accompanying me? I need fresh air.”

“Yes, Miz Scahlett,” The black woman said, but correcting with a cheeky smile as Scarlett gave her a pointed glance. “I mean, _mistress_ Scarlett.”

She raised an eyebrow but did not comment. Instead, she turned towards Prissy.

“Prissy, you can take my tray back and suggest it to the master's bedroom. He might be more in need of it."

Prissy shrieked and hurried out of the room.

Scarlett stared in her direction, wondering if it was all for show.

“Is she…?” She wondered.

Pansy let out an amused chuckle.

“No, she’s not,” She stated. “Prissy is a kind soul, but she has less sense than a goose.”

Scarlett felt herself sighing in relief. At least, that was not changing. How odd it would be, indeed, to discover that the one who had not been of great help in her past experiences, could have had the ability to do so much more! She still remembered the day Melly gave birth to Beau. Oh, the nonchalant attitude of the girl! The nonsensical lie she gave about knowing how to do this!

“Yet…” The servant continued. “It was not really nice to make her run so.”

“I don’t want to be nice!” Scarlett snapped. Then calmed herself. “Let us go. I can’t bear to stay here.”

She wrapped a shawl over her shoulders, put a tiny black hat on her head, and took her reticule. Soon enough, the door was closed on them.

She turned away and somehow the air was lighter, far more agreeable. She smiled a little and closed briefly her eyes as she took a great breath of it and let it all go. Oh, if only her problems could go that easily!

When she opened her eyes, a man was marching towards the door. She blinked.

He must have been her age, tall and slim, yet with a distinguished air. Ashen air and clear blue eyes, clearer than even those of a baby. Certainly not American. British, maybe? She had once met one of them when she had been invited at the Wilkes, in a time when she was still the Belle of five Counties. Peculiar species, with nonetheless a charming accent.

Seeing her, the man froze, as if stricken in place.

Once she would have fluttered her lashes, flattered by this reaction. One other day, she would certainly have played with him, with the hope of making Rhett jealous. But today, her pain was too raw to attempt such a coquetry. Instead, she lowered her eyes and continued her way.

Little did she know such a gesture was another arrow on the heart for the young man in front of her.

She went on, with Pansy following her closely.

On the way, they met numerous people. Some nodded at her. Others changed ways.

And surprisingly, some stopped to ask for news. Maybelle Picard was, to her shock, one of them. But then when she gave other condolences about Bonnie, she knew it was only pity guiding her. She nodded, replied in kind, remembering she had once lost a child too. Then it was over.

One black servant was accompanying her and he eyed Pansy quite openly, from up to down.

“Sister…” She heard him say, his tone almost drawling.

Once they were out of sight, she had to refrain herself to laugh. Since when was the last time she gossiped with a woman her age? It felt like an eternity, a time without wars, when her only worries were which dress would be sure to attract the most the attention of the one she was targeting.

“He seems to like you,” She could not help but notice. “Do you know him?”

“He certainly seems to want to know me,” Pansy replied.

Scarlett’s brow raised.

“You’re so brazen about it.”

The woman at her side smirked.

“My people may not be used to blush over such a silly thing.”

It was not said, but it was implied: “we have better things to do”. And somehow, this suggestion, instead of offending her, pleased Scarlett who was tempted to respect the woman more for this admission.

Why, she had met so many mealy-mouthed persons! It felt refreshing to have someone speak her mind like that.

“I suppose so,” she said with a smile.

She stared at the other side of the road, curious to know who she might cross, when Pansy returned the question.

“The man from the porch seemed to want to know you a lot.”

She gaped, surprised by such an intervention.

“I am married.”

“Some men don’t mind.”

Rhett certainly does not, she bitterly thought.

“I do mind,” She retorted, throwing daggers at her companion. “And you’re insolent.”

Pansy shrugged.

“You’ve talked about a man paying attention to me, I thought you allowed me to do the same.”

She blinked.

“Oh, dear Lord!” She remarked, amused. “You were teasing me!”

They stared at each other, then laughed. For one little moment, they seemed to forget they were mistress and servant, white and black. They were two women, about the same age, who chattered lightly over silly things.

Had she paid attention, she would have seen people eyeing them strangely. But then, even if she had, she would have probably thought it was because of her past indiscretions. She had been used to their askance looks that seemed to follow her everywhere.

Instead, they continued wandering according to her fantasies. Sometimes it was right. Sometimes it was left. Pansy did not seem to mind, or if she did she did not comment. She continued following. And Scarlett somehow felt freer to talk than ever. She recalled the harvests of Tara, the sweet scent of magnolias, and the songs that could be heard after a day of work that could even be heard even from home.

Everything that could get her mind out of the numerous losses of her life.

She began humming when talk was not enough. This time she felt deliciously empty. No bad feeling, just a lightness she didn’t know she had craved until then. At these moments, she knew she could do anything. She was Scarlett O’Hara (never mind the former names of her other husbands) Butler. She survived war, hunger, and attempts on her life and integrity. She could handle whatever would come on her way.

They certainly had left their known area, and perhaps Pansy was on her way to remark on it.

Until something blue crossed the corner of Scarlett’s eyes.

She froze, the image of Bonnie leaving for one moment the world of memories to appear in the reality of her life. She blinked. A woman’s cry was heard. A thief. She blinked again. The image blurred, letting the reality of what was happening appear slowly before her eyes.

It was the urchin that had been lurching too near her store. He was running down the street, a blue pouch in his hands.

Had she been of sound mind, Scarlett would have continued her way as if nothing had happened. Nothing could be done after all, except calling an officer to declare what happened as a witness.

Yet, she was not of sound mind at that time.

She ran after him.

“Wait, Scarlett!” She heard.

But she didn’t stop. Her feet carried her a long way, although sometimes she thought she could trip over her petticoat, despite her hands gripping it. She cursed also the heels of her shoes, but somehow that still did not stop her.

He would go right, she would do the same. Then left. Then straight. Then right once again Then… she lost him.

Where was he?

“Mistress, you should not be there,” Pansy exclaimed urgently as she managed to catch her. “It’s not safe.”

And it is safe for a child? Scarlett wondered stubbornly as she tried to continue.

“Mistress, what is going to happen if something happens to you and your people want revenge?”

This time there was panic in her voice.

Scarlett froze. Then remembered her place.

She could almost hear Rhett’s scolding voice, telling her she did not think of the consequences of her actions. She remembered Frank’s face, and Fanny’s as she heard of her husband’s death. The looks of hatred and anger thrown at her, the accusations pouring from every one of their gestures, their words. How many things could be lost again because of her rash actions?

She nodded dumbly.

“You’re right, Pansy,” She uttered with difficulty. “I was not thinking.”

And what about the children? One wrong thing, and every effort she would have made would have been in vain. What if she did not find ways to help India… Or even if she did? Could she really trust that woman?

A cause. That was what she needed. Something to be known for, to be thanked for.

Rhett had used his past as a Southern soldier to be accepted and had been backed for this by the presence of little Bonnie by his side. He had known how to charm them all, had known which people to talk to, which one to bribe.

She needed to find ways too. She was certainly not as cunning nor as lucky in her assessments of what may be or not a success.

Children… Yes, that could be the way… she realized. Who did not love children? Or at least did not affect to? And with all these soldiers dying at the war, leaving widows, sons and daughters… Who could see wrong in this? She would be seen as a great, good lady, whose heart could not bear the suffering of children… Or at least a woman who wanted to redeem her sins through good causes…

People loved stories of redemptions; Rhett had once told her so. Certainly, this could work.

“Would you know where the orphanage is?” She asked Pansy with a husky yet excited voice.

The servant woman looked at her with a quirk of the brow and nodded warily.

“Is it very far from here?”

A shake of the head. No. Scarlett was almost tempted to smile in triumph.

“Then show me,” She said with determination.

Please… she thought. May nobody else had established themselves as benefactors of this… Or at least, not as much as she intended to.

She followed Pansy with newfound determination. Once arrived, she called with grand drama for the tenant and sashayed through the corridors. Children all around, looking at her with curious, sometimes suspicious eyes. Some small, some tall. Some blond, other brown or red-haired. Boys and girls. Yet, how skinny they were! Weren’t they fed enough?

She remarked though that some teenage girls looked better fed and clothed than others. Some boys too. She asked about it. The Mother Superior seemed ill-at-ease with that question and said something about remote parents sending them gifts. Scarlett said nothing but decided to investigate the matter later.

She visited the place for a full hour, and assessed what she could do. She noted with satisfaction that if some ladies had brought knitted clothes once in a while, nothing concrete had really been done. She almost sighed in relief. She discussed some more with the Mother Superior, who insisted a lot about the money, though she tried to convince her God was the true answer.

The nuns working in the orphanage did not seem to believe their eyes. She heard some call her “Mary Magdelene”, and almost took offense in being named after a woman who at best had been possessed by demons, and at worst a woman of poor virtue. But then, she remembered she ended up as an important and respected figure in the Christ’s story.

Yes, that theme suited her very much. The woman exorcised of her demons and who was building a new life…

Rhett would have laughed at her for remembering some brief glimpses of religious stories that conveniently.

Yet, the persons in the orphanage would not laugh when they would see what would come to them tomorrow.

She gave a great sum of money to the Mother Superior before leaving. Some children tried to follow them, but they were soon urged to go back.

“Thank you, Pansy,” She said softly as she looked at the miserable building from its gate. “Now, let’s go home.”

Tomorrow… yes, tomorrow, she could make sure furniture be delivered.

She almost bumped into Rhett when they came home. He was putting his mantle on. She raised an eyebrow as he took it off.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asked hurriedly, his gaze looking at her whole figure as if he was trying to make sure she was whole.

She looked on the other side. Pansy was already gone.

“On an errand,” She said briefly, a little piqued by such an examination. “Were you going somewhere?”

She heard Prissy calling for supper.

“Just in time,” She commented as she escaped his gaze to go towards the dining room.

“Scarlett…”

She stopped and turned towards him, her head cocked to one side as she looked at him pointedly.

“Well, aren’t you coming for dinner?”

He stared at her with inscrutable eyes, then shook his head, laughing it off lightly.

She ate with visible great appetite, to his amusement, though if she had to ponder it, she would have realized it was more because of the great show she made of it than because of the actual quantity, which was not so great.

Then she raised and called for storytime.

“Are you sure you want to tell the story tonight?” He said carefully. “You might want…”

“Great balls of fire, Rhett!” She interrupted, offended by his suggestion. “I’m not some fragile little doll you have to send for sleep each time she does something remotely stimulating!”

“If you’re so sure…”

“I am!” She took with more determination than ever her children’s hands and almost dragged them to the study, where she settled comfortably between the two. Rhett closed the door behind them and sat on the handle of the couch, eyeing her warily.

Then she opened her mouth. But no idea came to her. Instead, now that there was silence, she felt almost ill-at-ease. And yet, she needed to go on, she needed…

“Mother…” Wade began hesitantly.

“Wade, not n…” she could not help but hear Rhett hiss warningly.

Oh no, she thought with sudden panic. Had her talk with Wade not resolved it?

“Mother,” He continued nonetheless. “May I add a part in your story? Just for this one time? I promise it won’t disturb much the rest. After all… last time I interrupted you. I want to make it right.”

She caught Rhett’s disapproving glance towards Wade and it influenced her decision.

“Go ahead, then,” She said with a sweet smile.

She was the one setting the rules, after all.

Rhett crossed his arms, visibly displeased. Wade cleared his throat.

“After the story, Solene and Mary went to bed. But sadly, Solene… she couldn’t sleep. No matter how many times she moved in the bed, her eyes closed, but it wouldn’t come. So she decided to take a walk outside. She…” He hesitated, as if unsure of where he wanted the story to go. “She wanted to know what the old lady meant with her story. She looked at the stars and continued walking, until she found a lake. There, she saw a little girl who greeted her joyfully.

“’Hello!’ The little girl said. “Wade’s voice cracked a little at this, but he went on. "‘Hello, my name is B… Bridget and I’m lost. And you? Who are you?’

“Solene said her name and asked her where she was from, as she wanted to help her. But the little girl didn’t know.

“’I just wanted to play,’ she said. ‘But “ma and ‘pa didn’t want me to, because there was a mist. They told me to stop… But I didn’t want to. And as I was playing, I found myself here. Would you help me find my way?’

“Solene hesitated as she didn’t know if she might not lose herself too. But Bridget was very… insistent and cunning, it was difficult to tell her no. So they wandered together, a long time, because Bridget sometimes wandered around, picking flowers, sometimes disappearing and reappearing with another thing in her hand. She was a very adventurous one, Bridget. Until finally they found a house.

“’That’s my house!’ Bridget cried happily. ‘ma and ‘pa must be waiting, and my brother and sister!’

“Solene smiled at her, then knocked at the door. A boy opened it, followed by a little girl.

“’There, you’re home,’ Solene said, turning to the girl. But the girl had already disappeared.”

From the corner of her eye, Scarlett noticed Rhett had stiffened, and his mouth had opened slightly.

“Solene…” Wade continued. “she was surprised, but then the girl must be near. So she told them that she’d been escorting Bridget home. The boy and girl were relieved. She asked about their parents, and that’s what they told her:

“’They’re gone to find Bridget,’ the boy said. ‘We’re waiting for them to go home.’

With Rhett’s expression on his face, and Wade’s voice slowly wavering, Scarlett realized. He was talking about them. He was revealing his feelings in this, his vision of things, and his hopes… In it, she felt his love, and it echoed strongly in her heart, more than she could ever have imagined.

“And… they’re still waiting… “ Wade went on, his voice breaking little by little. “But the parents will come back, for sure. They promised, so… And Solene knew it, so she went back to the old woman’s house to join Mary and…”

He could not continue.

“Oh, Wade!” She exclaimed, throwing her arms over the boy. “My loving, tender son! Of course, they’ll come back, they’ll come back…”

Ella burst in tears. “But where is Bridget?”

“Ella, darling!”

She was soon added to the embrace as Scarlett pushed them both against her, trying to calm all these emotions that came over her.

“Will you stop, both of you?” She said, her voice breaking. “If you continue… if you continue…”

She lowered her head to lean it towards theirs. The tears went flowing on her cheeks, and yet, it was not only sadness she felt.

She felt Ella and Wade move a little away and she blinked, chastised by that behavior. Oh, maybe it had been too much. After all, they were not used to such a thing on her part. Oh, she had never been like Melly, so open and affectionate!

But soon enough she realized it had been just to reach out for Rhett.

“Oh no, I’m not joining that crying mass!” He shook his head with a quirk of the lips. In his eyes was burning a little mocking flame that warmed her.

Still, the children pushed him in. He froze, surprised, then put his arms around them all. She saw him close his eyes, his mouth twitching as if for a smile. He seemed like a contented cat…

_“… I do have that one mouse I’d like to catch. Though to be true, she’s actually a cat as well.”_

She blinked. What was that?

She shook her head. Had he said something like that once?

Who was that “she”?

She bit her lip. She was only his wife, after all. He clearly showed her during these years it would not stop him. Jealousy had its grip on her guts, cold and then burning, and she felt she might choke from the bitterness of it.

Then came regrets. Oh, if only she had not listened to Ashley! If only she had not asked him for separate bedrooms! If he loved her at that time, then everything would have been alright! They would have been happy and Bonnie…

She closed her eyes, swallowing them. No. She would enjoy the moment as they lasted. She would not let them be tainted by things she could not change anymore.

“Mama…”

This ended the embrace. Scarlett felt a mixture of relief and disappointment.

“Shh.. sweet-heart. I think it’s had been too much emotion for both of you. Wade, would you mind escort Ella back to the nursery?”

He nodded and kissed her goodnight, dragging a sleepy Ella whose legs were barely holding her.

She stared at them with a smile as they left the room.

“You are very lucky,” Rhett said softly. “You are so loved. I’m sure you don’t even realize how much.”

Love. How him saying this word made her heart race! If only he could say it for her and mean it!

But he won’t. He said it once. He would not do that again. He was talking about the children.

Children… She felt for him. Oh, if Bonnie was here, everything would have been alright. Bonnie, the apple of his eyes, the only one he regained a good reputation for. He would have done everything for her, even putting his own life in jeopardy.

Now, he was left with children he might care for but a wife he did not love.

He deserved more than that. And yet, despite knowing that, she still wanted him to stay. She was selfish like that. And maybe, maybe! One day he would love her again. By habit, perhaps…

No. She would not bear that kind of love.

“I am lucky,” She said simply. “They make me lucky.”

The ache in her heart called to him, begged him to hold her in his arms again. Even if once. Just the feeling of being supported by these strong arms, of warming herself to his heat. One touch of his lips on her, the feeling of his bright white teeth biting lightly on the skin underneath… It made her shiver all over.

For one moment, she wanted to ask him to lay with her. To feel him against her, to meet each one of his thrusts with her own to forget, oh, forget, everything that happened. The pain, the bitterness, the losses… She didn’t want the remembrance of the hunger, of abandonment. She wanted oblivion and bliss. Craved it with the same intensity as when she starved at Tara.

And yet, succumbing to that without love on his side? How could she bear it? How did it make her better than Belle Watling to him, she who not only had been his confidante, but also his lover?

Her lower lip trembled. She would not be another Belle Watling, she decided. Oh no, he would not make her!

And yet… How she needed him!

She shook her head. Then raised her bright pleading eyes on his.

“Oh, Rhett! Can’t we be friends again? Comfort each other, like friends would?”

He seemed to freeze at these words. He stared at her for a long time, and she saw mixed emotions in his eyes. But dominant was the indignation.

However soon enough, his usual bland expression took place on his face.

“You’re picking once again at scraps, my dear. Friends?” He said, as if amused. “Is that what you only want from me?”

She stiffened.

Of course. He didn’t want to be friends with her. How could she say such a thing?

Had she stared back at him then, and not turned away to gather her thoughts, she would have seen that he was biting his lips in regret and his hand was reaching out to her.

She felt the biting sadness. Then came the burning outrage. 

“Of course not!” She crossed her arms, vexed. “Silly me, I should have remembered. I’ve seen how you can trade friends easily for others when it suits you.”

“Except for the ones that matter, darling,” He said softly. “Except for the ones that matter.”

That infuriating man!

“You’re a skunk,” She hissed.

He put a hand to his heart, a mocking flame lighting his eyes.

“How wounded I am, dear! And here I thought you wanted to be my friend!”

She blushed, outraged. Oh, the audacity of that man!

“Don’t you take anything seriously?”

“I take everything seriously. It just amuses me when people are blind to the obvious.”

“Oh, because you have such a clear notion of what is obvious to others!”

“Well, isn’t it?” He relented persistently. “Tell me, Scarlett, what should be obvious?”

His gaze on her was intense, piercing.

“What is obvious should be easy to say and to share,” She replied cautiously, though it did not stop the drop of bitterness in her tone. “Else it may never lead to anything in the end.”

“What is easy to say rarely means anything in the end. Aren’t we used to words easily thrown to the wind, my pet?”

She gripped the fabric of her nightgown furiously and nodded. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at the man in front of her, immobile and calm, and yet in his eyes a challenge whose meaning she wanted to be sure of. She shook her head, wary. If he did not want to be clear with her, she would not give him the pleasure to ask him to explain it to her.

“Alright, then. So be it,” She said with her persistent stony gaze as she rose from the couch. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, my _friend_ ,” He repeated with a smirk and an almost automatic and utterly dramatic bow of the head.

She froze, blinking. Then nodded numbly, not reacting to the quirk of his brow as he saw her reaction.

She closed the door, and that was when she heard the quiet laugh behind it.

Was there something she was missing?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rhett doesn't like to be friend-zoned. And he and Wade need to work on their collaboration.  
> Thank you for the kudos and the comments!


	11. Chapter 11

It was with a surprisingly great satisfaction that Scarlett saw many pieces of furniture and supplies going to the orphanage. She supervised the whole moving, requisitioning Hugh and Charlie for the task, then Rene Picard, who was on a walk with his wife and asked what this was all about, and the mysterious visitor of the house of yesterday, who came to them with a surprisingly common name: Todd Smith. Maybelle Picard, formerly Merriwether, stared a long time in the street, then went to Scarlett.

“What a charming idea!” She said with enthusiasm. “What a great initiative, Scarlett!

Scarlett affected a demure smile that seemed to fool her.

“I’m only doing my Christian duty,” She replied softly, before putting an ashamed expression. Everyone liked to pity an ashamed fallen woman, after all. “I feel I had been so lacking these last years. And with dear Bonnie’s death…”

She lowered her head, the tears quite real with the mention of her daughter. Yesterday had been the first anniversary of her death. Yet, so many things had changed…

A light of understanding came to Maybelle’s eyes.

The fish was on the hook, she thought with satisfaction as Maybelle attempted to reassure her, her arm linking with hers.

Maybelle was not like Melly. However, Scarlett knew the death of her own child had affected her, and she had been one of the ladies knitting for the orphanage.

Having her as an ally would be a great step forward, as it would influence one of the old pea-hens, namely her mother and perhaps Mrs. Meade, by gossip.

It felt so easy…

“Scarlett O’Hara!” Called the outraged voice of India Wilkes, who broke the harmony of such a perfect scheme. “I know what you’re doing, and you’re no charitable woman!”

She winced. She had talked too soon.

Maybelle froze, unsure, while said-woman entered in fury in the store, her finger pointing at Scarlett.

“Why India Wilkes,” Scarlett gritted her teeth. “What an undignified attitude!”

“It’s true, India,” Maybelle blinked. “What is this behavior?”

India’s face became red with anger.

“It’s a scam, don’t you see?”

“You insufferable b…” Scarlett could not help but rage, before stopping, seeing her companion’s shocked expression.

“My…” She uttered, uneasy.

Scarlett bit her lip, tempted to slap India who was smiling smugly at her. She needed to remedy the situation, and quickly. Else, her efforts would be in vain.

She blinked, her eyes lightening suddenly, before she waved her head lightly in circles, her eyes rolling in their orbits.

“Oh, I feel faint for all a sudden…” She said weakly, her hand on her forehead, her eyes narrowing slightly to give it a hazy air.

“India, you should be ashamed of yourself!” Maybelle suddenly fussed. “Why, Scarlett just wanted to help, to honor her daughter’s death!”

Then she turned towards her and guided her toward a seat, patting her hand with pity.

“What do you want, my dear?” She said with a condescending attempt at a motherly tone.

“I need a glass of water…” Scarlett croaked pitifully.

She saw the back of the daughter of Mrs. Merriwether leaving the scene with satisfaction.

India crossed her arms, a frown on her face.

“You’re a heartless creature. I know you’re trying to get off the hook, so my offer may not be useful to you. But it won’t happen! You need me, and I intend to fully use it!”

Scarlett glared, her chin held high.

“How dare you?”

“Where do you think your husband is going?” Ashley’s sister seethed. “Doesn’t it irk you a little, somewhere deep in your black heart? It’s the talk all over town! Why, it is said he’s going to many meetings, most of them at that… madam’s house!”

Blood came angrily to Scarlett’s cheeks.

Oh… So he was still seeing that woman after all!

“And you are certainly the main one talking about it, India Wilkes! I did say I would help you, I never specified when and how.”

“Or maybe you’re afraid. Does he beat you, Scarlett? There’s nothing less than what you deserve…”

“And you expect me to help you with these words? How ungrateful of you.”

India’s face suddenly became distressed as she seemed to consider her options.

“I will… I will invite you for the next sewing session…”

“Not enough.”

“There’s a ball in two weeks!” She cried. “I can make sure you are invited!”

“I’m listening,” Scarlett crossed her arms, looking at her opponent with steely eyes.

“There’s a ball, organized in memory of our lost soldiers…”

“I gathered so,” Scarlett could not help but roll her eyes. “Funny I haven’t heard of it.”

“No good woman with a reputation and a sense of justice would want to associate with you!”

“Yet here you are, willing to get me the invitations,” Scarlett attempted to hide the satisfaction she felt at the irony of the situation. “So, when is the next sewing session?”

India froze.

“I… I thought the invitation to the ball was enough. That you did not want to go…”

Scarlett raised an amused eyebrow. Was she really that naïve, to think she would let it go?

“Did I say so?”

If Rhett were here, he would have been proud of her shrewdness. Why, she knew he would have done the very same thing!

“… Fine!” India said, pouting. “ It’s every Thursday afternoon. This week, it’s at my place. I’ll do it. But in exchange…”

Scarlett rolled her eyes.

“Yes, I know. I will be working on it.”

Uneasiness came to her, but she shook it off. Rhett had not promised anything to her and had said over and over he would leave. He said it himself, he wanted a divorce! Certainly, she did not owe anything to him… She was about to be an independent woman, and soon it would not hurt so much…

“India, are you still bothering poor Scarlett?”

Scarlett blinked, then took back her role as the sickened woman, with India’s scowl at this reaction.

“Thank you, Maybelle,” She said with a croaking voice as she took the glass of water from Maybelle’s hand.

With one last cry of frustration, India left with an angry sound of crumpled fabric.

“I don’t know what is wrong with her today. She’s always been so sweet…” Maybelle wondered, before turning to Scarlett. “Is there anything else I might do?”

Scarlett’s eyes glinted one moment, but it was so quick Maybelle thought she had dreamed it.

“In fact, there’s a tiny little thing…”

“Anything!”

The woman’s eyes in front of her were so eager that Scarlett thought she was going to drop her act by a violent (and very much unladylike) roar of laughter. Instead, she lowered her head to hide her smile and kept a pitiful voice.

“You see, it will soon be my Ella’s birthday, and I know how Wade and her are fond of your little Raoul and your other delightful children… Would you mind bringing them to her birthday party?”

“I guess I could do so…” Maybelle said hesitantly.

“Wonderful!” She said as she embraced impulsively Mrs. Merriwether’s daughter. “You’re a kind soul, Maybelle Picard!”

My, she thought amusingly as she saw Maybelle blush with pleasure at the praise. How some women can be as easy to influence than men! If I had known it earlier, what problems could I have avoided!

When all was delivered and done, she felt very generous, so much that she offered lunch to everyone that helped her in her project. She even invited Mrs. Elsing, who went, as usual, to see her son for the lunch break. Todd Smith refused politely, though she could see he wanted to stay. She did not insist, too focused on other preparations. Mrs. Elsing accepted eagerly, attracted by the offer of free food. Then to Scarlett’s utter surprise (and dismay), she went to seek her daughter-in-law and their children and suddenly the little party became too much like an assembly.

Maybelle and René stayed a long time, the woman seeming to take responsibility for Scarlett’s state, and René most likely because he had nothing better to do. She heard him talk about the superiority of French food and, hoping to maintain the conversation, she recalled her Robillard’s connection and affected a curiosity for that part of her family’s inheritance. René’s eyes lightened at this and he described the Jardin du Luxembourg, which baffled Scarlett, as she thought he was from France. Yet, she said nothing of it and nodded as if she understood it perfectly. Maybelle soon joined with a little urgency in her voice as she recalled the memory of a past trip, and the lightness of the pastries.

Somehow, as their discussion went on, Scarlett found interest in all of this, when it had all begun with a simple politeness and a desire to advance in her quest for acceptance. It certainly made her more tempted to learn more about French culture, and its so-called refinements.

Well, and that would certainly surprise Rhett! She thought with amusement.

She took news of the saloon, then went home, very much satisfied with herself. Dinner was already served, and Rhett already settled at the table. Without thinking, she kissed his cheek cheerfully, took her place, and eagerly dug in.

“You’re surprisingly happy today, my dear,” He finally remarked, amused, after she took a few bites. “Aren’t the children here yet?”

“The school organized a little trip, to keep the memory of our brave soldiers alive. They will be back soon.”

“Fundamental, indeed.”

She smirked. “I know your deep interest in the Cause.”

His mouth twitched and his eyes gleamed with amusement. “And I remember yours, my dear.”

She shrugged. “Why, I wasn’t the one to suddenly decide to fight for it for no reason at all, leaving two poor women in distress, an idiot, and a new-born baby.”

He chuckled. “You still haven’t swallowed that one down, have you, my pet?”

She crossed her arms. “No, indeed, and I doubt I will ever forgive you for that!”

Yet her smile betrayed her.

“You forget, my dear, I had the entire faith on your shrewd ability to survive.”

He cleared his throat.

“By the way, I’ve heard you are helping the orphanage…” He began, his black brows moving with perplexity as he cut his meat. “That’s… surprisingly good of you.”

She could not help but smile at such praise.

“Am I hearing this right? Is that a compliment from the infamous Captain Butler?”

He laughed.

“People have seen stranger things. You’re already quite conceited as it is.”

“How you do run on. Your compliments are extremely rare, darling,” She teased. “And most of the time short-lived. Why, in all of our acquaintance, you’ve barely said five to me.”

Darling… The endearment had slipped from her tongue, so good, so right. She bit her bottom lip.

He did not react.

“Isn’t it enough for your vanity?” He chuckled. “You already know too much your worth.”

“Never!” She exclaimed fiercely, as his laugh deepened. “But I guess it’s always nice to know despite my obliviousness, my egoism, my nosiness, my complete lack of morals, hypocrisy, and whatever great fault you might find at the moment, at least I’m charming and smart… despite my ignorance.”

“And you’re strong, resilient, perseverant, fiery, fascinating, vivacious, irresistible…”

She froze, her fork at mid-air. Her eyes widened. Her heart missed a bit.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to prove you wrong,” He said with a grin. “I said more than five, did I?”

She could not help joining him. “I guess you did.”

The fork went down.

“And you?” He straightened, his upper lip twitching. “I don’t remember any compliment from your part…”

“That’s because you delivered them before I had the time to find them!” She retorted. “You’re a devil, Rhett Butler, you already know which are your faults and which are your qualities, and you’re not afraid to say them.”

“Humor me a little, would you?”

“Uhu.” She shook her head coquettishly, her finger waving firmly in the air.

His lips stretched in an amused smile.

“Do I have to bribe you for such a favor?”

“Maybe,” She said cheekily. “After all, it’s always nice to have a new bonnet or necklace offered by such a tender husband from time to time.”

“Agreed. But only because when you smile like that, there’s a dimple on your cheeks.”

“I don’t see the link,” She blinked.

“I see it. Go on.”

She pondered the question, unwilling to say something that might be too flattering. She took a bite of stew to give her a certain composure. Why, he always said she was the vain one, but he was not any better!

“Well, you’re… incredibly flexible.”

“Flexible?” He let out an almost surprised smirk.

She blinked, then realized.

She blushed. “Not in that way, you cad.”

He shrugged.

“Well, I can try. To be more… flexible.”

“I meant about how you adapt yourself to everything that comes your way,” She shook her head vigorously. “No matter what, nothing seems to disturb you, you find your way out of every situation with the agility of a cat.”

She sighed, not daring to look at him. Yet a soft smile came to her face.

“You’re cunning, and you have a great instinct for businesses in the long term. You’re generous and incredibly considerate when it comes to people you respect and love. You’re willing to do anything for them. You…” She bit her lip, regretting mentioning the word love in such a context. It hurt too much. Then she put a pleasant smile on her face. “You’re an adventurer. You have such strength, such a love for life and the pleasant things. And you’re quite the storyteller when you want it…”

She paused. He cleared his throat.

“I think you forgot some things after this pretty list of compliments, darling.”

Slightly startled, she looked at him with wide eyes.

“Which one?”

He smirked.

“I’m devilishly handsome and incredibly rich.”

She let out a merry laugh, delighted by the audacity of her man. “That’s because I knew you couldn’t help mentioning it. I’m almost waiting for the time you say you have a way with women.”

“Well, I do, don’t I?”

“I’ve never seen it really directed at me, but I guess you do,” She teased.

“Ouch, you wound me, my dear,” He replied in an affected hurt voice, though his grin betrayed him, his white teeth shining at her. “Have I missed the spot that much?”

She let out an unladylike roar of laughter. He looked at her with bright eyes, his lips, barely concealed with his finger grazing his mustache, stretching even more widely on his face.

She sighed, content.

“You know, for all of our lives together, this part was what I missed the most.”

“Really?” He said with a comical waggling of the brows. “Our quarreling?”

“I guess we do quarrel a lot, don’t we?” She smiled wistfully. “But not really. These ones are… actually pleasant.”

“I guess I missed this too,” He admitted. “You know, when you’re angry, you have such a fire in your eyes…”

“Oh, now, that’s enough of the compliments, Mr Butler!” She huffed, flustered. “One of these days, my head might not survive for such an amount at the same moment.”

“I might have to disseminate them at different times, then.”

She stared at him, but he did not seem to react. His face still had that nonchalance, that sarcastic quirk at the corner of his mouth that suggested what he said meant nothing. Yet, there was this little mocking flame in his eyes…

Once, this flame had meant he loved her more than he wanted to admit. Yet, she had been wrong so many times about him.

“I guess you should,” She said with a surprisingly choking voice.

Oh, in these moments, she could almost think…

“Mistah Rhett…” Pork intervened.

The moment was gone.

Rhett opened the telegram her father’s former manservant handed him and read it.

He stared a moment at a distance, then sighed.

“It seems I will not be able to assist our usual storytelling session, my dear.”

She froze. Then lowered her gaze on her empty plate.

“Very well.”

He cocked his head to one side, a certain sense of smugness in his tone.

“Are you not going to ask me where I am going?”

“Would you answer me if I do?” She said as she rose, letting the plates be taken away.

He shook his head, amused.

“No. But I would have been surprised if you hadn’t asked. You always like to put your fingers in others’ pie.”

“Infuriating man!” She scowled, leaving the room in fury.

He followed her.

His eyes twinkled. She stopped, her back on him and crossed her arms, outraged.

“Of course, I should have known,” She fumed. “It is such a difficult concept for you to tell the truth to a woman you claimed to have once loved, you claimed to be so alike of you in many ways!”

“You are becoming more and more reckless, my dear. And rash. There are reasons I don’t tell you anything. Besides those you already know. You not being trustworthy is one of them. I still remember all these times when you tried to have your ways despite all the sayings of others. Don’t you think I don’t know about you running around in the streets, somehow thinking you can catch a young thief by yourself? Are you out of your mind, woman?”

She glared at him.

“Am I being watched now? What gives you this right, I wonder?”

This time he did not seem so amused.

“Oh, maybe because I am your husband…”

“Begrudgingly, I remember,” She remarked, failing to hide the bitterness in her voice. “And a husband not reclaiming his marital rights? Why, that’s no husband at all!”

“That can be arranged, if what you’ve said is true.”

She gritted her teeth in anger.

“You dare, you dare to doubt my words, after all the things I’ve done to prove it to you!”

“Then, what are you waiting for?”

“… What am I waiting for… what?” She gasped. “Do you want me to beg for you to stay? Great balls of fire, Rhett, you can’t make me! I won’t beg for you to love me again, just for your own vanity! I’d sooner burn this whole house down! I won’t accept any of this from you, Rhett, no matter what you’re plotting behind my back!”

His fists clenched, and then she knew she had hit her mark.

“Is it such a difficult concept for you to understand that no matter what, I might have enough heart to worry? To care?”

His voice was controlled, strained.

As if he really meant what he said.

Yet, if it was the case, why was he always running away?

Or was it just another attempt of his to be kind? To show his pity?

Kindness? My foot, yes, she thought with bitterness.

“Oh, because you are so kind. Poor captain Butler, with an unworthy wife…” She jeered “I wonder what gave me that idea, that you don’t give a damn…”

“Scarlett…” He said warningly.

She threw her hands up to the air.

“Fine, keep your secrets for all I care!” She said as she turned away, not wanting him to see the tears that were forming in her eyes, caused by her dashed hopes. “It doesn’t even bother me anyway. I wish you could just leave and never come back!”

He turned her towards him, his eyes intense, a spark so akin to rage lightening up his black orbs. She recoiled, unsure.

“Didn’t I say I would not tolerate any lie from you?” He scowled. “When it is all over, we’ll need to talk.”

Oh, if only her eyes could _really_ throw daggers at him!

“Oh, that’s convenient and so predictable, a man ordering a woman not to lie, but who doesn’t even think it’s bad not to do the same with her. Yes. When it is all over. Have you found the end of my story, yet?”

He blinked. Then shook his head.

“Oh no, not with me, Scarlett. Don’t pretend as if you do not know. I know somewhere in that thick, pretty little head of yours, you remember what we’re going to talk about, and it is to this part I am talking with. You’re quite unpredictable these days, my dear, and I fear you might do something reckless. I don’t want to have to deal with any mistakes you would have done with messing with things you have no idea of. I’m not playing this game with you…”

“Let me go, you skunk!” She shouted, escaping his grip. “Remember what? Playing games? You are the one playing games! Always keeping information, never being clear…”

“That’s enough, Scarlett.”

“Oh, no, you won’t be the one to turn away again! I won’t let you!” She yelled, outraged, before bowing lightly to him, her head high in defiance. “Goodbye, my love.”

He cocked his head to one side, his lips twitching in irony as he forced her to face him; his chest pressed so much on her she could feel the buttons, and the strong muscles behind that shirt.

“I’m not turning away from anything. When it’s all over, you’ll understand. I’ll see you tomorrow and we’ll continue with your stories. And you’ll be more reasonable. Until then, goodnight, my _friend_.”

He dared to push her lightly away. As if she were a child to dismiss to bed!

“Oh, _you_!!”

She pulled on his cloth, forcing him to face her while her other grasped his cravat.

His eyes were daring on her.

I know you want to kiss me, they seemed to say. Go ahead, prove me right. 

She froze, then frowned. She was certainly not entering his game.

“Your cravat is absurdly done. There’s no way any woman would let you go without it being redone.”

He blinked, then chuckled. She felt him straightening himself as she focused on the cravat, fixing the knot and adjusting the pin.

“I… care, Scarlett. One day, you will realize how much,” He said finally as he caressed her cheek. “You are after all… the only woman I’ve ever loved. That’s not an easy thing to forget.”

Her eyes raised at his face, wide and bewildered, as she tried to scan his every expression.

It sounded like a promise, which left her dumbfounded.

Loved. It was always in the past.

And yet, he must know, that such a word, such an admission that he cared might give her hope…

Was it just a game for him?

Yet, she had that nagging feeling he was holding his breath as she attempted to pull a little on the fabric around his neck. She frowned, unsettled.

Then, she shook her head, waving him away.

“Now, go ahead, leave. I know that’s what you want to do.”

He nodded, his eyes bland as he looked at her.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Scarlett,” He said as he kissed her swiftly at the corner of her lips, his mustache tickling the tender skin of it.

She blinked as he quickly climbed the stairs to go to his room, with that attractive smirk on his face, as a cat having eaten the canary.

“You’re cruel, Rhett,” She whispered painfully as she touched the little part of skin his lips had met. It felt like a sweet burn, promising more than it should, playing her heart like the strings of a musical instrument. “So cruel.”

She sighed, then went to change for bed. She heard him leave his room in a hurry and counted the steps until it faded away. Then she dozed out, trying to escape the numerous questions that had yet to be answered. When she heard the children returning home, she greeted them and led them with an affected cheerfulness.

“Do you want to hear the story, children?” She said to them as they reached their room.

“Y…”

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait for Uncle Rhett?” Wade interrupted Ella. “Prissy told me he was away for the night… It would be sad to leave him behind. Furthermore, I’d like to read some chapters of Robinson Crusoe with you… If you don’t mind.”

She blinked.

“Very well,” She said, a bit dismayed.

They read two chapters before suddenly Wade’s voice became sleepier and she sent them to sleep, asking Prissy to help them change.

As she passed Rhett’s room, she froze.

The uncertainty was killing her, and India’s words had hit their mark more than she would have liked to admit. And with his unwillingness to answer her questions…

She was so sure he had been spending most of his nights here. And this business about Twelve Oaks quite intrigued her so. Rhett had always been so secretive about his plans, and here it felt too close to home.

Could she trust him to keep her best interests at heart? To protect Tara if need be? He had said over and over that it was only a farm to him. Yet that did not stop him from helping when they were married and he loved her. But now that he did not love her anymore… Would his supposed “care” for her be enough? Or was it a way to divert her attention?

Oh, God’s nightgown! She thought with dismay. I’m not going to stay in the dark for so long!

She entered his room. Disregarding the lack of decoration of the room, a sight that would have at another time saddened her because it suggested he did not intend to stay there, she quickly looked through any place that could hide any secret message or document that might hint to her what he was about to do. And where.

Until she found the very obvious telegram disregarded in plain sight on the platform of the fireplace. Eagerly, she read it and made up her mind.

**Meet me at the sporting house**

At this, Scarlett went red, her temper flaring.

He was going to see Belle. Oh, that infuriating man! Saying he cared, and yet…! She was going to confront him!

In rage, she ran to her room and proceeded to aggressively brush her hair. When it did not appease her, she threw it all away and looked at her angry reflection.

Somewhere, in her mind, she remembered the letter she had hidden, and she was tempted to open it. She put her hand on the drawer of her vanity, then froze.

How foolish of her, what a waste of time! She was almost tempted to laugh. No, she did not need to read it. She knew India would have relished in that if there were talks about Tara, or her in the letter. And Rhett was not one to describe her positively in such a document where he wanted someone to do his bidding. He was smart enough not to show his cards, and to know it would not sway someone like India, quite the contrary. Nothing truly informative of his intentions would be found there.

No, instead, there was only one way to be sure. And she could not wait the morning to get it.

“Pansy, you’ll come with me,” She called, determinate. “We’ll need to get the master home tonight.”

Pansy’s expression was priceless. A mix of confusion and utter alarm, yet with a dubious curiosity.

“Mistress, whatever it is, I don’t think that’s wise…”

“Don’t question me, Pansy!” She scowled. “Now help me put on male clothes and we’re going!”

“Male clothes?”

“Don’t be an idiot!” She retorted hurriedly. “I won’t risk my reputation by appearing with my usual clothes, so everyone could recognize me!”

She looked at Rhett’s clothes, took eagerly what she needed, and began to put it on her.

“Why, I look like a ghost in this shirt. It’s so big!” She mused, feeling a little intoxicated with Rhett’s scent on it. “Pansy, we need to fill it out!”

“With what, mistress?”

“Oh, please, Pansy, stop with your ironically said “mistress”!” Scarlett protested. “We’re in the middle of a conspiration, here! We might as well be sisters in crime!”

Pansy raised an eyebrow.

“Sisters?”

“Partners, whatever you want!” She waved it off. “We need to hurry!”

It felt exciting somehow, all these plans, when nothing exciting and remotely adventurous had been happening to her lately. It made her heart race in her chest, and she felt more alive than ever before.

How she understood Rhett in that moment, with all the passionate descriptions of his adventures!

This was certainly one of the most reckless things she’d ever done, that with going to the jail to seduce Rhett (how it had worked, indeed!). Yet she did not care. On her mind was her objective, and somehow, she was unable to think of any consequence of her actions.

“Pansy, the pillows!” She cried, proud of her sudden stroke of genius. “Get them tied around my chest!”

When it was done, the clothes put on and the hair held high and hidden with one of Rhett’s Panama hat, she looked at her final appearance with approval, but was quite unsettled with her similarity to her late father, Gerald O’Hara. Yet, something was missing.

“Do you know something to hide my voice?”

Pansy nodded, then disappeared for a few minutes, minutes who did not serve Scarlett to reconsider her decision, but rather to confirm it. In an afterthought, Scarlett rummaged a little through Rhett’s things and took a gun. She had only used such a thing once, and she hit her spot. Where she was going, she might certainly need it, she thought, her heart jumping with quite a rush. Just in case. She took some money of her own. Certainly, if she took some of his, he might notice, she thought.

When Pansy returned, she handed her a glass of something green, incredibly thick.

Scarlett sniffed the thing, suspicious. It smelled of herbs and clay.

“What’s in this?”

“No poison, miss,” Pansy replied with a mischievous smile. “But it sure will make your voice sound like a man’s. At least, for a few hours.”

“That will do,” She said as she drank it eagerly.

She then proceeded to train her voice and noted with surprise it was so much deeper, grave, and somehow masculine.

“How queer!” She cried with such a voice. “What’s in it?”

“You don’t want to know.”

She pondered the question, then decided to let it go. Instead, she eagerly turned towards Pansy.

“Now, your turn!”

Pansy seemed startled by this.

“My turn?”

Scarlett cocked her head to one side.

“Well, it wouldn’t be seemly for you to be seen as a woman in the place we intend to go!”

“I really, really do not like the sound of it.”

“Go on, you can take some of Rhett’s clothes… Why, he has so many of them!”

“No. I’m not taking master Rhett’s clothes,” Pansy shook her head disapprovingly.

“Fine, take other clothes!” Scarlett said, irritated. “Why, Pork must have some hidden somewhere!”

She seemed unconvinced.

“Please…” Scarlett found herself surprisingly pleading.

Pansy blinked, surprised, then nodded.

It seemed to work, because a few minutes later, she appeared in a uniform that transfixed her, giving her somehow a rakish and masculine look.

A few minutes even later, after tidying up the mess they made in Rhett’s room and taking care everything was exactly where it should be, they were on their way, each on a horse. Scarlett had the exciting impression to be one of these cowboys from Texas described by Tony Fontaine.

She found comfort in Pansy’s presence, as it remembered her Mammy’s protection when she was young -Esther, she could not help but add, with the impression of discovering a family secret-. Oh, Mammy had also been here when she went to Atlanta to try to get money. Certainly, it was a sign!

Yet, when said house was in view, Pansy refused to follow her.

“I’m not going into that whorehouse,” She shook her head stubbornly.

Scarlett felt very much irritated by this. She bit her lip, upset.

“You’ve come with me so far, and you’re not even willing to enter?”

“If I follow you, there might be some scandal if we run into the wrong persons. And the horses may be stolen…”

“Fine, do whatever you want,” Scarlett scoffed, her eyes hard on the infamous house. “Keep the horses, you might not be that much bothered if they think you’re just a manservant. If I do not return at least by the morning, you may call for the officer. Do you have something to protect yourself?”

Pansy nodded, showing the hint of the handle of a knife in her pocket. “And I know how to use it.”

“You’re a resourceful one,” Scarlett remarked appreciatively, before walking towards the entrance. But then she stopped and winced, finally realizing there might be consequences for the woman beside her. “Though you might prefer to run as much as you can. I would not blame you.”

Pansy nodded once again. Then as her mistress continued her way, she called her one last time.

“Wait…”

“Yes?” Scarlett turned one last time towards her accomplice.

“You’ll get him back.”

There was such a certainty in her smile that Scarlett felt almost convinced by it.

“Thank you for your confidence, Pansy,” She said, before grumbling to herself. “I’ll need it.”

She held her head high and clenched her jaw as she pushed the door to the building.

She was immediately greeted by a thick and heady scent of jasmine, that did not hide that of the sweat and sex. Around her a myriad of colors, heavy lace curtains and deeply carved pieces of furniture, visibly very expansive, thoughtfully arranged on a marble floor.

Why, it’s almost to my taste, she thought. Then she remembered Rhett’s words with horror. So that was what he meant!

Oh, she thought distraughtly. There will be a dire need to remedy it. Why, her house, really similar to a whorehouse?!

Getting rid of the curtains was visibly not enough. She might have to change it all.

Oh, when she would get to him! She, having to confront him at a whorehouse! The scandal of it!

At that moment, she did not quite know what she would do if she actually found him. Killing him or offering herself to him so that he may never think of bedding another woman again.

Then, she realized the looks of the customers and the girls.

Oh, by God, how was she supposed to act? How was a man supposed to act in such a place?

…

How would Rhett act?

She squared her shoulders, then attempted to broaden her composure. Her fists clenched as she took affected confident steps with legs oddly arched.

Why, how many men had she seen with their crotch similarly brought to the fore, as if they were tempted to show who was the most virile of them all without actually showing the thing?

“I want Rhett Butler’s room for the night!” She called rambunctiously, with a voice that sounded like that of her late father when he was drunk. “Five dollars for the one who’ll show me that place!”

“Rhett’s room is occupied tonight, darling.” One of the women answered her with a husky voice, standing too close for her sake as she leaned over her, taking her hand in hers sensually. “My, my, you have such fine hands, just like ones of a girl!”

She could see the woman was trying to reach her crotch, so she slapped her hand.

“Easy, girl, no touch of the good. Where is it? I want to talk to the damned rascal!”

“That’s the green room, at the…”

But she did not wait to hear the number of the floor.

Eagerly, she climbed the stairs, ignored the bewildered glances of the people around her, and looked at each door of the first floor.

Then, finally, she found a green one. She pushed it with a great clash.

“There you are, you great cad…” She exclaimed as she entered.

But it was not Rhett she discovered behind that door.

She blinked. Instead, in front of her, strangers were pointing their guns in her direction.

And somehow, behind her, the door closed with a bang.


	12. Chapter 12

Her whole life, Scarlett had been confronted many times with death. First those of others, with Charlie’s that went totally over her head. Then, with the war going on, with her own, and that of her people. How many times had she thought they might not make it and lose it all to the Yankees!

Now seemed to be another one of these times, she thought as she looked at the guns pointed at her.

She needed to keep her calm. She needed to keep her wits and to believe she would live another day. After all, she had already killed a Yankee once, who wanted to steal from her, and who knew what else.

Well, now, it seemed there was more than just one man after her…

Surely, there was a chance? Maybe? A little one?

She tried to play it off, waving haphazardly like a drunk. Why, it worked, when the officers came to take Ashley and the others, after the Klan’s attack! Why not for her? She put a grin on her face.

“Well, gentlemen, it seems I have opened the very wrong door. My, I thought at last I had found a room to relieve myself. Now, if you excuse me…”

But as she was about to open the door, one of the men caught her, his fist hard on her upper arm as he shook her violently.

“Get back there, you…!”

With that tremor, Scarlett’s hair tumbled all over her shoulders, her hat falling hopelessly on the floor. The pillows that were loosely tied around her almost escaped and were now noticeable with the cravat loosening.

A gasp was heard in the room as she escaped the man’s grip.

“A woman!”

With that stupor, she took the time to examine them more closely.

In front of her were four men, oh so very different in age and coloring.

The one who had caught her was incredibly tall, with the most flaming hair she had ever seen and that would make even Mrs. Tarleton blush. He had dull brown eyes, and she guessed from his expression he was certainly not the brain of the group.

Then, there was a slim old man. Sixty-five, perhaps seventy, with grey eyes piercing like those of a hawk. No good-natured little belly like Doctor Meade had, no warm smile. Somehow, she felt he expected her to fear him, but she could not find in herself to do so. He looked too much like an old weeping willow, with his long hair that went everywhere.

Next to him was a discrete black man dressed like one of these cow-boys Tony Fontaine had once described to her. He did not say anything, but she could see he was examining her attentively, though not disrespectfully. He was the first to put down his gun, turning his back on her to take a glass of whiskey. She blinked. She had the strange impression she had already seen him before…

And the last…

Recognition came fully to her.

What was his name, again? Ted? Tom? Todd? Todd!!

His eyes were widening in recognition and she tried to ask him for help. But the others had already put him back in the group to conspire.

“What is she? A spy?” The red one mumbled roughly. “A whore?”

“She’s not a whore. Everyone can see that,” The eldest one retorted. “Have you ever seen a whore like that? A whore would never have showed herself like that, and would have already tried to coax one of us to bed…”

“Gentlemen…” She tried to intervene, as she saw their suspicion was growing more and more. “I was just here to bring my husband home. Now that I see he’s not here, if you excuse me…”

She tried to leave once again, but once again she was stopped.

Too bad.

“What are we going to do with her?” The eldest one complained.

Todd Smith seemed to continue gaping, his eyes one time on her, then on his companions.

“I say, we kill her,” The red one exclaimed as he tightened his grip on her arm that he had caught again. “There are already too many people knowing…”

Her blood turned cold.

“She’s Rhett Butler’s wife.” Todd Smith intervened. “I know that old fox. I asked him to join us. Refused us. I believe he has his own interests in it.”

Visibly the wrong thing to say, she gathered from their expressions. Yet, it made the red-haired one let go of her, as if she was burning him.

She frowned. Rhett? Had he anything to do with this?

“More reasons to get rid of her,” The eldest remarked.

“Do I get a say in that?”

They completely ignored her. Somehow, she wondered if she could just take the door and leave them to their heaty discussion. She took a step backward. Then another.

“Wait there, Mrs.” The black man said calmly, putting himself on the door.

“But she certainly must know what her husband is doing!” Todd insisted. “Especially with her claim on the Tara plantation.”

Tara? What did this have to do with Tara?

Oh, Rhett! She raged. What was he trying to do? In what mess had he set her?

In her anger, she completely overlooked that had she not been here, she would probably never had been in such a danger.

“Of course, I know my husband’s businesses!” She protested. “Though I would prefer if you decide to quietly discuss it with him in particular. I’m only a mere woman, after all…”

She batted her lashes. Oh, please, may this work, she thought.

“She doesn’t,” The black man muttered as he took another glass. Though no one else seemed to pay attention.

And yet, despite her wish to get out of there, now that the name of Tara had been mentioned, she knew she would not just leave by herself.

“I never really saw you,” The red-haired one said, this time toward her, a sickening smile on his face. “Butler’s wife, uh? Quite a pretty piece. Under that disguise, and these… are these pillows? My, you must be sweet, indeed. I wonder why I never met you…”

She stepped back, wary, her blood turning cold.

“My husband is very possessive. Likes to keep me at home for himself.”

“And then I thought I heard of divorce…”

“And yet, here I am.”

“Yet here you are…” He licked his lips while she saw the black man and Todd Smith tried to step forward. “I wonder what taste you could have…”

Her temper flared back. Like this, she forgot her fear, and remembered she had brought a weapon with her. Outraged, she took her gun from her pocket and pointed it to him.

“Treat me once again like a whore and I’ll show you I’m not one to be trifled with. The last man who tried died. I am Rhett Butler’s wife, as you said. Do not doubt my ability to shoot.”

“Oh, she is fierce!” He roared in laughter. “A true vixen. No wonder Rhett chose her.”

Her hand was cold holding the gun, but her mind was boiling.

For two of them were still whispering about what they should do with her.

Oh, what should I do? She suddenly questioned herself, distraught?

She knew what Rhett would have said. Strike a deal. Try to find what they want and assure yourself you have it before them. Keep your calm. That’s how you’ll make the best deal.

She thought of India and the trade they made (and she had thought of completely overlooking). Who knew, maybe doing the same could help her get out of this mess?

She felt as if her blood was turning into steel in her veins. She was a strong woman. She had already killed a Yankee, survived the attack of Shantytown. She would survive. Tara would survive. By any cost.

“Listen, gentlemen, from what I’ve gathered, you want something, and my husband refused you. I’m willing to help you get it, if only I get to leave unharmed and, on my conditions,” She uttered, her eyes hard. “After all… I have ways to have information, as Tom said.”

“Todd,” He corrected automatically, though his mouth was agape. Then he cleared his throat, turning to his companions. “I wonder… maybe… the operation would be more of a success if it is done by someone less… noticeable. And maybe more distractive...”

“Plus she has ways to find out about that old fox’ plan!” Another nodded, the one with the red hair.

“You would truly betray your husband?” The eldest stared at him with disbelief.

“Why, he’s a terrible one,” She put her most frivolously indignant expression on her face. After all, it would be better if some of them underestimated her. “He’s unfaithful, violent, and a skunk. I can’t wait to get rid of him!”

Scarlett winced. She was doing too much, and yet she had the surprise to see it was working.

Oh, If she ever saw him again…! She’d claw his mocking eyes and scratch his chest until it bled!

“Perfect, then. We’ll have our bait.”

She blinked.

“What do you want me to do?”

They seemed to consult each other for a moment, before the eldest one stepped towards her with an attempt at a gentle smile.

“My dear lady,” He said with the most honeyed voice she had ever heard. “It’s the matter of the utmost importance. “The Government of the United States needs you…”

“The Government of the United States, just that?” She raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

Just, in what kind of mess had Rhett set himself? Had she set herself?

“Do not interrupt him, woman,” The red-haired one scowled. “Well, rumor has it that in Jonesboro a huge source of petroleum had been found…”

“Don’t explain everything to her, you fool!” The eldest one berated him. “She may have her own interests on it, after all!”

Fool, she was tempted to say. Why say that in front of her? Rhett would have laughed at such a stupidity.

“… Well, it attracted the interest of speculators, some from different countries. The man who gets his hand on it may become the most important figure, especially in these times when the industry is growing and widening. A plan had been drawn, with the exact location, and the calculations to make it work, and to add a railway. It is said it went to the hands of Lord Fenton, an English lord who’d like to settle there… For his own benefice, of course. The Government wants it back. So you see, it’s a very delicate and important matter…”

“Can’t you just find the persons who drew the plans? Or even created these… rumors, as you suggested it might not be so?”

“They died.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“How convenient.”

“Lord Fenton will be arriving by train on Monday morning,” The eldest one said urgently. “We need someone to distract him enough to get a hand on it.”

“And…you want me as a spy? A bait?”

Todd fidgeted, uneasy.

“He particularly likes… the company of spirited married women.”

“Spirited married women? Is that a way to say unfaithful ones?” She glared at them, her head held high. “And you want me to what? Bed him?”

“If need be,” The red-haired one smirked.

But she wasn’t listening to him anymore. The more she had heard, the more India’s words came to her, and Rhett’s too… And the more she thought that he had indeed another reason to stay that he had been hiding, and it had nothing to do with any care for her. Why, they said the one who would get a grip on these plans and the land would become a very important figure, very rich one?

A more reasonable part of herself told her getting richer was not what he wanted. But she shut it with irritation.

And somehow, Tara was involved in it. Was it why he tolerated her stories? Because he wanted to coax her to do his bidding?

Oh, that damned cad! She almost thought he was having feelings again! And yet, now, it seemed so obvious! He never did anything without any reason. He “always got paid”, he once told her!

The last of his feelings had died with Bonnie and may have made one last show when he came with her to see her grave. But that was the end of it.

Unwilling to ponder more on that betrayal, and the hope that was slowly leaving her, she focused on revenge.

Oh, cheating might not be enough. At that moment, she wanted to ruin him!

That would serve him right!

_“You’re mine too,” He had replied so softly onto her hair she actually doubted he had said so. “Cruel and destructive little cat as you may be.”_

She winced a little at the sudden memory, though the men in front of her did not seem to notice that. Or one last wishful thinking? She blinked, trying to chase it away. She did not need to daydream so! And yet, Rhett’s eyes, true as they had appeared as he had comforted her, did not leave her mind.

No, she thought. I will not think about it.

Then, once her survival for the moment was assured, she realized she had other matters to care for. Matters she had forgotten for too long, and which seemed still quite recent. She could not allow herself to be sold cheap.

Rhett might never forgive her for that. If he ever found out… And yet, he was the one who had planted the idea in her, so many years ago…

He does not care, she thought with gritted teeth. Why, he may be in the bed of that Belle Watling while we speak!

“Alright. But then I want rewards for putting myself into such a danger. There is not only this man. There’s also the betrayal of my husband.”

“What’s your price, madam?” The black man asked softly.

“I am a mother. I want my children to be cared for, to have a high status in society. I want them to go to the best university available. I want to have the means to live more than comfortably, when Rhett will finally leave. And I’m not sure I’ll get that if he ever finds out what I’m doing. And he may find out. You know somehow he always manages to get words of everything.”

“That doesn’t seem too big…”

“Oh, so I can add other things, then?” She said very innocently.

“Watch your tongue, woman,” The eldest one scolded.

“Then it’s settled. I want it on a written contract. With signatures,” She said, all business-like. “Do that and I’ll be your bait.”

“But if anyone…”

She waved him off. He scowled.

“I know my husband. I can handle him. I’ll find a way to… distract him,” She bit her lip. Well, that was such a lie. She never achieved to hide anything from him. At least for a long period of time. “He’ll never lay a finger in it. Nor anyone else.”

And it would be her guarantee. If she had it, she could try to transmit it to the good person and…

“To my mind, it’d be better if she was simply dead,” The red-haired one grumbled once again.

“Oh, but then, you won’t be that much advanced.” She batted her lashes coquettishly. “Come on, gentlemen, I offer you a fair deal.”

“You won’t fool us, eh, doll?” The eldest one said with a smirk. “After all… if you denounce us, you have children…”

She froze but maintain her gaze and nodded.

She had enough of everything. Every lie, every false pretense…

Then, finally, they accepted, and a paper was brought to make the contract. Finally, she got to have their names.

Hugh Olsen. Todd Smith. Patrick McConach (certainly the red-haired one). Vendredi.

She blinked, stared at him. He smirked. She scowled. Most certainly a false name.

But somehow, she felt that if she had to trust anyone of them, it must be him.

Yet, she wondered if the others might not have used the same trick. She stared at the two others she was unsure of, but they seemed quite nervous with the idea of having their names on a paper.

She shook her head and put the gun back to its place.

She put a stupid little grin on her face, taking the hat back and grooming her hair in a bun so they would be hidden by it.

“Would any of you escort a poor lady like me back home as discreetly as possible? It seems I will not be able to unravel my husband’s affair tonight, and I will be very grateful to be home to my children, with as little damage to my reputation, and any… recrimination of my beloved husband.”

With an afterthought, she pushed the pillows back and adjusted the shirt to hide it.

Todd Smith stepped forward eagerly and she raised an eyebrow at this, while “Vendredi” chuckled.

Thus began the way from the room to the issue of the house. He made her lean on him, declaring to the ones who asked that he was bringing a drunk friend home. They laughed with him and Scarlett played her role, groaning as much as she could. Until finally something attracted Scarlett’s eyes.

It was a little girl with raven hair and a very pale skin, sat on one corner near the stairs.

She blinked. Then could not stop herself. She escaped Todd’s grip and went towards her.

“You… I’ve seen you! You’re from the orphanage!”

“Have I seen you, sir?” The girl said with her wide, blue eyes. Then she blinked, frowning as a certain sense of darkness fell all over her face. Her bottom lip slightly shook, and Scarlett had the impression that with little insistence, she could be brought to tears. “Would you want me to… to…”

“What? Little girl, what are you doing in such a place? Shouldn’t you be at bed?”

“They said I had to watch and learn…”

“Watch and… Oh, great balls of fire!”

She took the girl by the shoulders and shook her lightly.

“What is your name, girl? And who sent you there?”

“I…”

“You can’t take her, Mrs… Mr. Bradshaw” He whispered then in her ears. “You will attract more attention in such a way.”

“But this girl…” She found herself pleading.

This girl could be Bonnie. This girl could be Ella…

He seemed to understand her.

“I’ll get her. I’ll bring her back to the orphanage. Once you are safe in your home.”

“Is it one of your empty promises so that I forget?”

“No. It is not. You have my word as a gentleman.”

She glared at him.

“Gentlemen these days are not what they seem to be. I’ve seen enough things to know that.”

“On my mother’s head, then.”

She looked into his eyes but did not seem to find any lies in it.

Her shoulders fell a little. Suddenly, the enormity of the situation she had found herself in was becoming too much to bear.

Bah, she thought as she nodded wearily. It would not be the first time she trusted someone wrongly. And she was so tired…

“Come,” He insisted, before escorting her back.

She pushed him away when they finally found their way out. But that did not seem to deter him.

“You are a very brave woman, Mrs. Butler, with a lioness’ heart!” Todd Smith said with admiration. “How you managed to turn the tables like that…”

“Scarlett, call me Scarlett.”

How am I still alive? She thought wearily. Why can’t something nice happen for once?

“I’d rather be your Lancelot and call you Guinevere.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Call yourself whatever you want,” She replied, weary of the night and of people using references she did not know the meaning of.

Oh, how could she go out of such a situation?

Then, she raised her eyes and met those of someone she hadn’t known she would be so happy to see.

“Pansy!” She called, relieved. “You have waited for me!”

The black woman crossed her arms with a satisfied smile to see her safe, before ogling warily in Todd’s direction.

“Of course.”

“And you are?” Todd asked, lowering his hat.

Pansy bit her lip, frowning.

“My friend,” Scarlett said with a grin, without thinking. “That’s Pansy.”

“Mistress, we need to get back…”

She nodded, before turning towards Todd.

“You’ll get the girl back, won’t you?”

“I will.”

“Good. I can find my way out of there.”

He kissed her knuckles as he bid her goodnight and she raised an eyebrow as he swiftly went away like a thief, going back to the whorehouse.

My, she thought, a bit upset. I haven’t even worked my charms on him, and he’s already besotted! Bah, that’s his problem. I hope he won’t do anything unnecessary and that Rhett would notice it.

Then she stomped her foot on the floor. That scoundrel! Oh, if she could see him now…!

It was with these thoughts she went home with Pansy, fantasizing over the many ways she could make Rhett beg for her forgiveness.

At least, he had still not come back, she observed bitterly as they brought back the horses. The buggy was still nowhere to be seen.

They entered the house quietly and managed to climb the stairs without seeing anyone. With relief, Scarlett got rid of the pillows that were too hot and suffocating on her and gave them to Pansy.

She was about to open her door with relief when suddenly a shrieking voice called her.

“Mama! Where were you? Why are you dressed like Uncle Rhett?”

Great balls of fire, she was going to wake the entire house! Scarlett thought as she turned, putting her hands over the little girl’s mouth. Ella’s eyes widened, surprised, and then filled with tears.

Damn.

She bit her bottom lip, trying to find something that might be a little believable.

Ella was a little girl, and not really the brightest, after all (though she found herself surprisingly protesting even with that aspect). Surely, it would not be so hard!

She put a grin on her face and released her, trying to do as if nothing had happened.

“Why the fuss, Ella?” She whispered with a false cheerful tone. “See, Mama was trying to prepare a joke for your Uncle Rhett,”

“A joke?” Ella cocked her head to one side.

“Yes, a joke,” She repeated wearily.

“What kind of joke?” her daughter said eagerly. “Can I help? Does Wade know?”

“No, sweetheart, it is a thing for grown-ups. Wade doesn’t know. And mustn’t know,” That boy knew already too much. How could she hope to be a better mother if he knew that much? “You might understand when you grow up.”

“Would you tell me the story?”

“Maybe,” She pointed her finger up in the air. “If you promise to be a good girl and you don’t say anything.”

Ella nodded eagerly.

“I promise, mama! I promise! I’ll promise just like I promised Uncle Rhett that I…”

Scarlett frowned.

“… That you?”

The girl’s eyes widened, then she shook her head vehemently.

“Oh, no, I will not say anything. I promised!”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow.

She knew she could get the truth out of that girl quite easily.

And yet…

Let him keep his secrets, she thought angrily. She would keep hers.

Her daughter intervened then, interrupting her thought.

“Mama… You smell weird.”

“I… I guess I do.” Oh, what could she do to divert her attention? She had no lies left. “That’s why I’ll clean myself. Now go back to bed, sweet girl. You will have a big day tomorrow. Not to mention you have your birthday party to plan.”

Oh, how such a plan seemed superficial, now!

“A birthday party?” Ella’s eyes widened as her lips, and tiny sparks of joy came from it “Really?”

“Will that please you?”

The little girl froze, then cowered under her gaze.

“Oh, but there won’t be a lot of persons…” She said with a hesitant tone. “Wade had told me it’s better not to ask…”

“There will be. I promise it to you,” And she knew in herself that she meant it. “It will be the greatest birthday party ever.”

“Oh, thank you, mama!” Ella cried, jumping on her.

You sweet, innocent little thing! She thought, distraught.

She wrapped her arms around her daughter fiercely. No, you will not ever become one of them, she promised to herself. I will not let it!

“No, go back to bed, little one,” She said, pushing her towards the nursery.

Then, when the nursery door was closed, she sighed in relief.

Pansy was looking at her with laughing eyes, and for a moment, she was tempted to laugh at her.

At least, until a voice interrupted them.

“Miz Scarlett…!”

Oh no, why couldn’t she go to her room without meeting someone? She cursed heavily with frustration as she clenched and unclenched her fists.

“Pork, a word to my husband on this,” She whispered furiously. “and I’ll make sure all the ghosts of my family haunt you down.”

Her manservant winced.

“But Miz…”

She sighed. She felt so tired. All of her strength had been spent, and she longed for bed. She did not want to fight anymore. Her eyes were almost teary as they met Pork’s.

“Please… Please, Pork. In memory of my father…Promise me on Tara, on the golden watch my father let you and all the memories of happiness we shared!”

He stared at her for a long time, then nodded.

“Dou ar’ a r’ckl’ss hon, Miz Scahlett. Dou nid to be mor’ car’ful.”

“I’ll be, Pork, I’ll be,” She said with a soft smile. “Thank you!”

Then, she stared at him suspiciously.

“And you know, you can talk as you want.”

“What dou min, Miz?”

Pansy chuckled.

“I mean… Oh, never mind, I like the way you talk, that’s all. It reminds me of home,” She said gratefully as she took these big, familiar hands in her own. “Thank you for still being there.”

Pork grinned. “Dou are a good person, Miz Scarlett. Dou hast done many wrong tings, but dere’s good too.”

“I certainly hope so!” She could not help but wince. “Now go to sleep, Pork.”

She sighed in relief when he left her sight.

“You give your trust quite easily.”

Oh no, not her too!

“Pork has been with my family long before I was born. How can I doubt his loyalty?” Scarlett protested. “Do you think I have to?”

“He is a loyal one, indeed. But I was talking more of that blond mister.”

“I do not trust him.”

“But still you let him bring you out of that house alone.”

She huffed. “Oh, but I wasn’t alone. Don’t say such a silly thing. You were here!”

“… Yes, I was. But for some, it might not have been enough.”

“What do you mean?”

The woman bit her lip, but said nothing, undecided.

“Oh, fine, if you don’t want to explain, don’t!” Scarlett scowled. “I don’t care, after all. Get me some water and soap, so I can get rid of that stench.”

She would think of this on the morrow.

Oh, if only she had again Ashley’s books to divert herself! Yet, she had given them to Moses with her annotations, telling him to be more careful, a bite she could not help but add to suggest India’s actions. She could quite understand her situation, but accept that woman? Never!

She got rid of it all and scrubbed her skin vigorously until it felt all hot and almost aching. Then, she got into her nightclothes and brushed her hair viciously.

“Pansy, burn these clothes. I don’t want Rhett to find out they have been taken by discovering an unwashed stain on it.”

“And… the shirt, Mistress?”

She had still her hands grasped on it. She had not found strength enough to put it in the pile.

“Pansy!” She cried with a pout. “With such a night, you have no right to call me mistress again!”

She shook her head, trying to appear the most nonchalant about it.

“I’ll keep the shirt. It will serve me as a reminder.”

“Of what?”

She smiled with something that looked a little too much like irony.

“Never trust a man who goes in a whorehouse.”

“Among other things, I believe.” As Scarlett prepared to retort, Pansy continued. “One does not keep something just because it reminds them of a bad thing. There’s also good in that.”

“I don’t want to think of it,” She shook her head. “Men… They talk about a great love, so strong it can overcome everything. They made us feel undeserving of such a feeling, so much than we have to feel grateful when we have this from them. But in the end, they are always the ones who take it all. Ashley talked of Melanie as part of himself, yet he never saw how she was so much more than that. She was caring and brave, willing to die for a cause if she truly believed in it, cried for every injustice, and yet… when it came to saving the ones she loved, she would have killed and stolen. And Rhett… Oh, always treating me like a child, as if I were a pupil he had to teach, always keeping me guessing, but never giving me answers. By God, I love him, but I don’t feel like I have to feel grateful if he ever somehow realizes he truly cares for me again. Which I doubt. Either way, it is too late, I know. Loving me has never prevented him to stray, and somehow I am the one who has to feel sorry for him because I dreamt of a few kisses with another while he bedded so many others. And now that he doesn’t… I grow weary of it all. He always had a way out of everything. This might be my way out. And in one way, if somehow he realizes he’s a little sad of losing me… Yes, that’d be his penance…”

“Scarlett… What happened?”

I realized my recklessness had consequences, she was about to say. I realized that I went too far and I may not come back from it. I thought I might die here. I thought I would be used, and nobody would have been able to save me. Not even Rhett. I realized the Yankees were not my only enemies, nor hunger. I realized I could lose everything in a blink. At that moment, I could only count on myself and the use of fleeting feelings of a man I’ve only seen once.

It seems Rhett and I will be drifting furthermore apart, and it breaks my heart even more…

She sighed, before letting herself fall wearily on the chair in front of her vanity.

“You were right, Pansy. Tonight had been a foolish mistake. I should have listened to you,” She admitted, her mind far away. “It’s funny how I’ve been told over and over that your people were our inferior in every way, but in such a situation, you are the only one I thought I could truly count on. And that’s not the first time. Oh, in what trouble I would have been if Mammy hadn’t been there!”

“Perhaps your people never really tried to see our worth.”

“Perhaps…” She released a heavy breath. “You know, I’ve pondered over what you once told me, I really did. I’ve sometimes thought your people owned us more than we owned them. We are raised with you at our side, and sometimes it feels it is not only the master that shapes the servant, but the servant who shapes the master. Why, I would never have been the woman I am today without Mammy by my side! … But maybe even in that, there is something that is not completely right in that assessment. Or perhaps even completely wrong…. Well, after all, the days are changing, and the more I think of it, the more I wonder… Perhaps….”

“You are changing, certainly…” Pansy replied warily.

She shook her head.

“Well, I think it’s enough thinking for today,” She shook her head “Why, I might get wrinkles if I think too much of it! I believe it’s time to say goodnight.”

Pansy blinked, then nodded, retreating.

She looked at her going towards the door and called her in an afterthought.

“Thank you, Pansy,” She said softly. “Truly.”

The black woman stared at her for a long time, and then suddenly understanding came to her. A genuine smile came to her and she left the room.

With all of that, she went to her bed and closed her eyes, hoping it might have been just a terrible, terrible nightmare. And yet, she knew it. Nothing would ever be the same.


	13. Chapter 13

For a few minutes, Scarlett had the illusion that the events of yesterday had never happened. Five blissful minutes she found herself comfortably tucked under the covers, pleasant thoughts succeeding to evaporate the last bits of the nightmare she had escaped, still hot and dreadful on her mind. Oh, she wished she never had to leave that bed, never had to let go of that feeling of calm before the storm.

Then she saw the contract on her bedside table and she knew the nightmare had only begun.

Swiftly, she took it, put it on her drawer, and locked it. To be safer, she took the key and added it to her bunch. Then she called for Pansy, but instead Prissy came.

She blinked, surprised, before asking the obvious.

“She’s off to bad, Miz Scahlett,” Prissy replied with an almost shrieking voice. “Sad she’s sick.”

“Oh,” She replied, deflated. “Well, then. Help me dress up.”

She found herself suddenly very lonely and surprisingly a bit worried. Funny how adversity could bind two very different persons together, and Scarlett found herself realizing for the second time how much she relied on the presence of others.

Breakfast was quickly eaten, Wade having planned a little trip to the library with Beau. She sent Ella to be dressed up after asking her if she wanted to accompany her. Certainly, the men from last night would be uneasy with the idea of finding her with her daughter? If they were respectable enough.

Which they weren’t. She scowled, frustrated with her own nervousness.

Lingering in the room, she scowled at the number of pieces of furniture that looked a little too much like the ones she had seen at the whorehouse. She would need to make a whole list of it, to know which one to give and which one to simply throw away. She could not bear it any longer.

Oh, the orphanage! She also needed to know what was going on. Why was that little girl in a sporting house? Had she escaped? Or did someone send her in?

As she wondered nervously around, she finally took notice of Rhett, who was leaning on the door, his gaze on her speculating and attentive.

She froze, paled, blushed, then paled again. All other thoughts were gone, leaving her with her heart tugged painfully low.

“Scarlett…”

Oh, no, don’t you dare say my name! She wanted to scream. Don’t, not with that tone, not with that gaze!

Her fists clenched at this and she made up her mind.

She needed to be strong. She needed not to make him see what she was about to do.

She wished she looked at him with the cold hardness of steel, but unfortunately, she was all too aware her heart was in her eyes as she walked towards him, cupped his cheek and put a light kiss on the other, before stepping back.

It was Judas’ kiss, she told herself. A kiss of betrayal, wrath, and guilt.

His thick eyebrows drew upward and formed a comical arch on his forehead.

“Well, that’s certainly a nice welcome home.”

She said nothing. He examined her attentively, then shook his head.

“My dear, I should have known you would try to make me feel my… inconsequence of last night. Though you seem to take it quite dramatically.”

Of course, he would take her resolution as a joke!

Oh, she would show him!

“Oh, you damned…!”

His teeth flashed against his swarthy skin.

“Now there’s the temper I _love_ so much to see! Now, shout it out, dear, or else you might burst from it.”

She huffed and stomped on the floor. Insults and accusations were waiting at the tip of her tongue, making her cheeks swell by the accumulation of it all. He continued to consider her with amusement, even daring to tickle with his fingers the underside of her jaw.

“That would please you, wouldn’t it?” She gritted her teeth. “Well then…”

She clenched her jaw and attempted to turn away. But he blocked her way, lazily putting a hand on the other side. She scowled and met his eyes.

She wanted him to know what she had engaged herself to do, to see his calm composure crumble suddenly, and the look of profound bewilderment take roots on his face. Oh, him who always underestimated her, always made her feel as if nothing she could do could really touch him, and who had played her so many times! She wanted him to fear her, to take her seriously, for once.

She didn’t want him to know. She didn’t want to see the betrayal in his eyes nor the pain in his expression. Didn’t want to feel the guilt and the raw feeling of being torn apart. Didn’t want to do something that could harm him even more than she already had without knowing. And now that she was aware of that, the pain was excruciating.

Oh, and what if he did not care at all? Somehow, this felt even worse.

“Now, Scarlett…” He cleared his throat. “I’ve reconsidered your… request for friendship.”

She blinked.

“Oh, really?”

He had such an infuriating smile on his face!

“My dear, it’s the very least I can do after all…”

She scoffed.

“Well… Now it’s me who’s not willing to consider it,” She pushed his arm and strode angrily towards the stairs, before bowing defiantly at him. “I hope you have a nice day.”

“I’ll see you, Scarlett,” He shook his head in amusement. “Soon.”

Collecting Ella, she made her way to the store, finding no obstacle on her way.

So far so good, she thought with relief. She had not crossed anyone else.

Hugh was already waiting, and with a grumpy expression, told her someone was waiting for her. She raised an eyebrow, but he did not elaborate. She sent Ella to the toy section, asking Charlie to look after her. Then, she opened the door of her office, before freezing in shock.

“You!” She shrieked, her voice almost failing her.

In front of her was the black man from yesterday, sat on one of her chairs as if he owned it, his cow-boy attire still very much on him and odd with the decoration of the room.

She closed the door abruptly.

Somehow, she felt no dread. No, the dread had left her once she was sure to come back home safely, and she found herself surprised to consider it now, with the uncertainty gone, much more like an adventure and a way of revenge on Rhett than as a life and death matter. And this one, in a strange way, did not frighten her. In fact, something in her told her she knew him, and she was willing to go with that first instinct.

“Vendredi,” he had called himself. Why, she had never heard such a ridiculous nickname!

If Rhett had been here, he would have said to be wary especially with that impression. But she was too annoyed to care. Gone for gone, she would not be a ninny all the way and cower! If she wanted to beat them, she needed to show them she wasn’t afraid.

“There is my daughter out there!” She hissed. “My employees and customers. Are you mad?”

He looked at her and calmly crossed his arms.

“If you react like that, it is sure you will attract more attention.”

He examined her attentively, which unnerved her.

“Do you even know how to defend yourself?”

“I know how to shoot,” She challenged him.

“That remains to be proved. Well, it doesn’t matter, actually. I’m willing to help you to learn it.”

This totally unsettled her. Her arms fell at her side while her face betrayed her surprise.

“And why would you do that?”

He stared at her, surprised, then shrugged.

“You do not remember, do you?” He sighed. “Well, I guess it’s quite understandable. Suffice to know I have a debt to settle, and this is my way to do so. And you’re a woman, with children. It would not be good of me if I, knowing it, let a partner powerless to fight back against people who might want to wrong them.”

“So that makes me a partner,” She sighed in dismay, before shaking her head wearily. “You’re certainly better than most gentlemen I’ve met, then.”

He flashed her a surprised glance, but she did not pay attention to it.

“Fine then, you’re hired,” She replied instead. “Why, did you think I would let you wander around me? People would raise questions!”

“People will raise questions nonetheless. Do you have a place where we could practice?”

“I could find one. But I’m still not sure if I can trust you.”

“That’s fair,” He commented. “I don’t trust you either.”

Scowling, she gathered her employees and determinately eyed them.

“There’s a new employee,” She presented. “His name is…”

“John Smith.”

Surprised, she turned toward him. Then nodded, her eyes narrowing.

Hugh was scowling. “Mrs. Butler, I don’t think it is fitting…”

“Are you questioning my decision, Hugh?” She turned her glaring eyes on him.

“Mrs., we don’t know who he is, and he is…”

Her temper flared.

“I know damn well who he is, Hugh Elsing! A man willing to work. Are you?”

“Mrs, you said you wanted to attract customers from the good society. That is certainly not the way to do it!”

Her newly proclaimed employee glared, but he said nothing, nor did anything.

“My, Hugh Elsing!” She scoffed. “Times are changing and if you’re not able to follow it, you can leave.”

Hugh huffed, his hands clenching.

He might really want to leave her, she thought with dismay. Why, she did not understand. After all, it did not seem to mind that much the other times.

Then, she remembered until then he had mostly been in charge of the recruitment.

“Please, Hugh,” She said with a softer voice. “Won’t you give it a try? If he doesn’t fit, then he won’t stay. Is that alright with you, Mr Smith?”

The man with many names blinked at her, then nodded.

Hugh begrudgingly uttered a defiant yes.

At least it was a yes.

“And you, Charlie?”

The young man stared at her with wide eyes, then nodded.

Thus leaving her with “John”, “Vendredi” or whatever name he really had. He looked at her attentively.

“What?” She scoffed.

“Nothing,”

“Then go help Charlie with the storage,” She snapped, then called him back as he left. “And… John? I believe I will not have to intercede more on your behalf, as you do want to stay here?”

He let out a confident smile.

Oh, please, do not make any trouble, she wanted to say. But then, what would it have brought him? The man was intelligent, from the discussion they had. And he had a lot of mysteries on his side.

It was unnerving, being in a situation where she wasn’t completely in control.

What if somehow he knew Rhett and would tell him? What if he was the one he had a debt with and he was acting as a spy on his behalf?

But then, why tell her that?

She felt the doubt creeping up in her heart, and decided to take refuge in her office, where she took care to verify every mention and calculations. She was so immersed in it that she did not even notice when the door was opened and a man with an Indian-like stride came firmly at her side, leaning lightly behind her.

“My, Scarlett, you seem busy.”

Scarlett jumped as the warm, deep drawling voice came at her ears, the breath of her husband hot on her skin.

“God’s nightgown!” She cursed. “What are you doing, lurking behind me looking like a tiger on its prey?!”

Rhett grinned. “A tiger, Scarlett? Why, that’s flattering!”

She fumed and she stomped her feet.

“What are you doing here?”

His smile widened.

“Can’t a husband invite his own wife and adopted daughter to a little belated picnic?” He said smugly as he raised the basket he was holding.

“Well…” She began, not knowing what to say. “Yes. I mean, no. It’s so… unexpected. I don’t think…”

“My, don’t look so surprised, darling. I’m sure Hugh and the others can work without you pestering them endlessly.” He cocked his head at one side, daring her to contradict him, before adding an insolent whisper as he leaned in, his eyes sparkling in mischief. “After all, what better way to… keep up the appearances, after all. And I’m sure you did not eat that much today.”

She scowled, then called for Ella, who was filled with glee by the surprise. She begrudgingly followed them, leaving a list of instructions for Hugh before climbing into the buggy.

Rhett led them to a nearby park, and settled the napkin and plates on the grass, before gesturing them to sit, visibly very satisfied with himself. Seeing she was still very much vexed by his surprise, he took it upon himself to fill the conversation, telling mundane little stories that delighted Ella, but said nothing to Scarlett about his true intentions. She ate silently, examining him and trying to see the malice in his behavior. He raised questioning eyes on her at this, and she shook her head, frustrated not to find in it any answer that might persuade her she was in the right.

“Mama!” Ella suddenly cried. “There’s one friend of mine here! May I go?”

“Of course, dear,” Scarlett was a little dismayed by that desertion. “But be cautious. Come back as soon as you finished.”

But the little girl went away without a care and Scarlett realized with surprise that her fingers were a little too hard on the fabric of her reticule.

“Are you alright, my dear?” Rhett noted. “You seem almost… fidgety. I do not dare to think it is my miserable self who makes you that nervous.”

“Nothing,” She shook her head. “Nothing is going on.”

She winced by her repetition.

“Have you by any chance some news of Tara?” Rhett suddenly asked, though he seemed not to care about the answer.

She narrowed her eyes on him as the words from last night came back to her. Was it a way for him to abord the discussion? What did he truly want from Tara? Was it to be able to use it as he wanted? Certainly, he could not be unaware of the things surrounding the house, especially if he might get something from it.

Certainly, he might want to persuade her to do something, and she was absolutely not sure it was in her interest.

Too many questions, and so few answers.

Then, from a corner of her eyes, came an unexpected vision that chilled her to the bones.

Todd Smith was here. And he had definitely spotted them.

She frowned.

Oh, why was he walking so determinedly towards them? She thought with dismay. The fool, did he not know where they were?

Rhett noted her gaze and followed it, while the young man finally came to them, lightly bowing.

“Captain Butler… Mrs. Butler…” He greeted, though his gaze was mostly on Scarlett.

Fool, imbecile, don’t you dare to look at me! Scarlett wanted to scream.

Rhett smirked, visibly unaware of the angry blush on her cheeks.

“My dear, here is the poorest of companions I have ever encountered during my blockade days. The very disastrous Todd Smith.”

“What a poor description,” Said man replied with an irritated quirk of the mouth. Then, with a softer expression, he turned to Scarlett. “Madam…”

His eyes were bright on her and she feared he might do something utterly stupid.

God’s nightgown, she had barely seen him more than three times! Wasn’t this whole thing supposed to stay secret? Then why was he looking at her like that?

She had to find a way to hide the big elephant in the room.

“I believe we know each other,” She said hurriedly.

“You do?” Rhett commented laconically. “Well, that’s interesting.”

She bit her lip, before remembering he once said to her the best lies were the ones built on truth. She put a pleasant smile on her face.

“Mr. Smith was kind enough to help to move the pieces of furniture from the store to the orphanage. Though a complete stranger at the time.”

“An innocent bystander, certainly.”

“It was an honor, Mrs…”

Expectation came to her as she finally asked the question she wanted since the beginning.

“Oh, but I remember, Mister… Smith, isn’t it? When we went to the orphanage at that time, there was a girl that had escaped… Would you please inform me if she had been found and brought back to safety?”

The blond man blinked, then nodded.

“She did, Mrs. Butler. I made sure of it personally.”

She relaxed.

“Thank you.”

“You must be proud to have such a good wife,” He began to say towards Rhett. “Kind and generous. It was an honor to help her bring these supplies to the orphanage.”

Rhett raised a brow. Then narrowed his eyes.

“Oh, yes, my wife is a very unique woman, indeed. But I assure you, my friend, her goodness has only for equal her incredible opportunism.”

She fluttered in rage while Todd seemed to puff his chest, crossing his arms, visibly preparing himself to be her valiant knight in shining armor.

And Rhett was smirking.

He was trying to make him react, she realized. To make him say things he shouldn’t. He had suspicions.

Which ones, she did not really know. About the admiration of that man? Or was he aware of the plans? What about her mingling in it?

Dread came to her. What if he knew she left the house last night?

She was tempted to huff, but then it would have drawn attention to her as well. She had to find other ways to turn this situation around.

She put a surprisingly shaking hand on Todd Smith’s wrist, her lashes batting as a silly little smile settled on her lips.

“Oh, please, don’t be angry on my behalf, my good mister. My dear husband likes to make jokes only he seems to understand.”

Rhett offered her a surprised raise of eyebrow that almost made her drop her mask to snort.

“Of course, my lady,” Todd replied, calmed down, an intolerable look of powerless pity on him, that made her remember she may have suggested her husband was beating her. She almost cursed on the spot. “Well, It had been nice to meet you. I believe I stayed longer than I should have.”

She nodded towards him as he bowed and left.

“That’s quite a good show you gave us, my dear,” Rhett commented. “Very… unique.”

She nodded absent-mindedly, her gaze following the young man.

“Scarlett?”

“Oh, yes, I believe so.” She bit her bottom lip.

She could not help but notice his fists were visibly clenched in his pockets.

“It seems you are attracting attention, my dear,” He continued casually.

She shook her head and frowned, as if annoyed by a fly.

“How annoying.”

He stared at her, surprised, for a moment, then shook his head in amused disbelief.

“My, Scarlett Butler annoyed by the easy conquest of a new beau?” Rhett said with a smirk that told her he was not. “I’m sorry you think so, my dear. I’ll tell him next time to be a little harder to catch.”

“Oh, you think I should take interest more in him, dearest?” She said with wide, innocent eyes.

He chuckled. “Oh, my dear, you would ruin him. You would tear him to pieces, my cruel little cat, and play with the remnants. Poor lad.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she hoped her trouble wasn’t showed too much on her face. Then, when she found her voice back, an idea came to her.

“Rhett… Can I ask you a favor?”

“Depends on the favor.”

“Would you show me how to play poker?”

Surprised, he turned more towards her, his eyes searching.

“Poker?”

She nodded.

“Yes, poker.”

“And why would you want to learn poker for, my darling?”

“Well, why not?” She attempted to shrug.

“Well, entertain me,” He relented. “Certainly you can find a possible reason.”

“Yes, that can be a reason. To… entertain you…” He narrowed his eyes, suspicious. She huffed, shaking her head. “But to entertain myself mostly. And who knows, if I can get any money from it…”

He stared at her, unconvinced and still very much suspicious.

“You don’t know how to hide your thoughts and emotions, my dear.”

“Then what do you have to lose?”

It would be her challenge, besting him at one thing he knew. To learn from him how to guard every one of her expressions so he might not know what she truly thought.

“Is there something you want to tell me?” Rhett asked, his eyes narrowed.

She faced his gaze defiantly.

“Is there something _you_ want to tell me?”

He shook his head.

“Not particularly at that precise moment.”

“Then I don’t.”

“Don’t play that game with me, Scarlett.”

“I’m not playing any.”

“A game? Which game are you talking about?”

Scarlett jumped at the intervention of her daughter, which she had almost forgotten the existence until then. Rhett, in contrary, smiled with a mischievous smile and crouched down to be at the little girl’s level.

“The game of truths, my dear Ella. Sadly, your mother doesn’t want to play.”

She huffed.

“That’s because Uncle Rhett always cheats at that game.”

“Oh, but I want to play!”

Rhett chuckled.

“Alright, miss Ella. You say one thing you think about me, I answer and say one about you. And maybe on the way, your mother will join us.”

“What kind of truth?”

“Any one you want.”

Little Ella put a hand on her mouth, her little ginger brows almost meeting in one line as she focused on the question, then she smiled and pronounced her first truth with cheerfulness.

“I think you like us very much, Mama, Wade, and I.”

Scarlett felt a pang on her heart as her husband chuckled.

“Right to the point, Miss Ella. You’re your Mother’s daughter. I do, indeed. Now my turn… I think you… like the color green a lot.”

Ella’s eyes brightened. “Oh, I do! That’s my favorite color! … I think… you’re preparing a surprise for Mama.”

Scarlett froze.

“I do,” He nodded with a smile. “I think you know how to keep a lot of secrets, isn’t it, Ella?”

“Yes, I do! You know, I do! And Mama knows too, doesn’t you, mama?”

She found it hard to reply with the lump on her throat.

“… Yes, sweetheart, you do. Now would you be a lovely girl and bring some flowers to mama? The house will be prettier with it.”

Ella, blissfully ignorant, nodded eagerly and went on her quest.

Rhett’s white teeth were bright between these unsufferable lips that were already stretched in a triumphant smirk.

“It seems you didn’t like that little game. Now, I am curious about it. Secrets, Scarlett?”

“Every woman has secrets, and their husbands too. Am I not right, my love?”

He chuckled.

“Indeed, but not always,” He tucked a straying strand of hair behind her ear, and she tried to refrain the shiver from his touch. “You are my wife, after all. Your interests are supposed to be mine and mine yours, aren’t they?”

“Only when it suits you.”

His smirk widened, then he stretched lazily. “Alright, my darling, I may deserve that wariness. Your fur is still ruffled the wrong way by my night away. Don’t worry, Scarlett, I won’t pry more on your secrets for today. But know that in time I will know them. Though I’d prefer very much if you tell them yourself.”

She stared at him, alert and almost expectant.

“Why would I? Would you?”

He threw her a questioning glance.

“You tell me yours and I tell you mine. Isn’t this how it works?”

“In that case… Won’t you begin?”

“A gentleman always lets a lady first.”

“You’re no gentleman. And you never thought of me as a lady. So when are you teaching me how to play poker?”

“Swift change of subject, my dear. Tomorrow, we’ll begin. But know that in poker, there are always wins and losses. What would you accept to lose to the game, Scarlett?”

Were they talking about poker anymore? She was not quite sure.

“Everything,” She finally said, challenging him. “And you?”

He met her gaze, and she saw the same strength reflected on her.

“Never one for half measure, my dear. It seems we are on the same page, then.”

She offered him a disbelieving stare.

“I don’t buy it. You always have a way out.”

He let out an amused little sneer but did not answer.

She rolled her eyes. Could he ever stop being so deliberately unclear?

Well, she didn’t know she cared anymore about that. No, in fact, she did not. At all.

Damn him!

Raising, he reached out for her.

“Come on Scarlett, let’s go home,” He said as he helped her raise. If you’re nice enough, I’ll give you a kiss.”

She took her hand back, outraged.

“I won’t beg for a kiss.”

“But you do want that, don’t you?”

His gaze on her was piercing, and she found herself quite nervous, her hands almost clammy.

“I don’…”

Before she could finish, he took her by the shoulders, so she faced him.

“What did I say about lying, darling?”

She blinked, suddenly a little too overwhelmed by that strong body so close to her, his suit hugging a little too much the contours of his musculature.

Was he going to kiss her? Oh, she wished he would, even if soon it would be all over. When was the time he last kissed her? It felt like an eternity and she all knew too well her eyes were too bright and pleading. She missed even his offhand kisses, which before offended her so. Kisses that always pushed her to the limit, a little too close to the mouth, and yet not enough. But at least enough to make people talk.

She could not help but close her eyes, irresistibly leaning in, her lips half-open, slightly trembling with the anticipation.

Her knees almost buckled as he stepped back, the skin of her forehead tingling from the light touch of his lips.

Oh, she thought with disappointment. She had thought…

“You do need kissing badly…” He said with a painfully restrained voice.

Her heart raced heavily and it was hard to keep her thoughts on check. In fact, she found she could barely do it. When she felt his hand leaving her cheeks, she pressed a light, longing kiss on the little hollow of his wrist, before escaping, not noticing the sharp intake of breath she caused in him. Her chest heaved with difficulty, and she felt all the restraining of her body as her soul seemed to want to leave it.

“Maybe,” She muttered, trying to calm the wild beatings of her heart.

On her lips a delicious shiver and a salty taste she wanted to lick.

She cleared her throat, stepping quickly away.

Damn him! Why did he have to be so tactile today?

Why did he have to make her care?

“Although I know you enough to know it’d be surer with…” She breathed heavily. “Something else.”

“Oh, but it won’t be enough, will it?”

She glared, her tongue working against her will. It had always been that way with him, she never had been able to hide anything to him unless he had no interest in knowing it.

“I don’t know. Since our marriage, there hasn’t been the occasion to verify it.”

Here his eyes were burning on her. His lips opened in that intolerable little lopsided grin, and she knew then his next words would be her undoing.

Things certainly must be more alluring than ever once you decide to give it up, she thought with dismay.

“Now, before we head home, would you be a dear and bring some ice cream for Ella and me?” She said with a hurried voice as she saw her daughter coming back with a grin and a tiny little bouquet of daisies in her hand.

With a quirk of the brow, he complied and too soon, came back with the treats. She only had the time to gather all the things he had brought in that basket of his. She ate it silently with the little wooden spoon as Ella continued talking about everything that caught her eyes.

“Is it to your taste, my dear?” He finally said as they were soon in sight of the house.

She raised her eyes on him, questioning how he could be so nonchalant about everything. Saying mundane things like that, then suddenly throwing hints that might make any woman blush and think he cared.

She was about to reply in a most normal way when he beat her to it, his hand reaching her cheek.

She shivered as his thumb caressed lightly her bottom lip, where a little drop of cream had stayed, before it was put into his mouth.

“It’s certainly to my taste.”

Her heart skipped a beat. She cleared her throat.

“Rhett, people are staring.”

“Oh, we are used to one scandal or two, my pet, aren’t we?” He challenged her, before leaning closer. “My pretty hypocrite, do you really care that they are? They would do so no matter what we would do. No. I don’t believe you care. In fact, I think you’re a little afraid… and a bit greedy. You bit your lip to hide it, but your cheeks are bright red. How long has it been since you’ve last been touched like that? A long time, I gather. Especially from your reaction when I mentioned a possible kiss. But no matter, it can be arranged,” He chuckled rather cheerfully as she did not answer, her head downcast with her lip turned down. “Well, had I known a light teasing would make you all tongue-tied and fluttering, I would have certainly done it earlier.”

“Oh, you great king of cads!” She scoffed. “Light teasing!

“King, really? You elevate me quite well, darling. That does make you queen, in fact. After all, if I raise, you raise too.”

“Do I now?”

“Isn’t it how marriage is supposed to work?”

Really, she thought, defiant. Why this talk of marriage in a situation like theirs? What was the point?

“No. the woman gets to care for a couple of brats and the entire household while the man gets to mourn around about how life had been unfair to him.”

He roared in laughter.

“Damn you and your precious mind!” He exclaimed, visibly pleased. “Well, I don’t believe we fit so much in that description, don’t you think, darling?”

She could not help but grin. “No, I guess we did not. At least, not really.”

“Now, you’re the one who’s teasing.”

“Am I?” She said innocently. “I’ve barely noticed it.”

They finally reached home, and when they came to the parlor, Scarlett, having dismissed Ella for her to clean up her hands and ask Dilcey to find a little vase for the daisies, had the surprise to see an adorable rounded little box, large enough to fit a hat.

She turned towards her husband, surprised. Could he?

“Rhett…”

“I did promise it to you, didn’t I, my dear?” He nonchalantly waved towards the thing. “And I always keep my end of a deal.”

A deal.

“Of course.”

His eyes gleamed at her.

“Now open it.”

And she did, with an extreme wariness that made Rhett laugh and say it was as if she was afraid it would explode if she was too eager.

It was a marvelous, darling little bonnet made with bright velvet and lined with watered silk, with delicately sewed golden buttercups (although still discreet enough) at the trim of it. The feather of a peacock adorned it with a panache she found absolutely charming.

Well, he certainly did want something. What was he attempting to buy from her, this time? She asked herself, cautious.

Oh, once, she would not have questioned it, never even would have pay attention to it, but now!

Innocence was gone, and it was difficult not to see after being blind for so long.

She bit her lip, conflicted. It was so pretty, and somehow filled with unwanted memories, and yet…

“Rhett… it’s green.”

He looked at her as if he did not find anything weird in it.

“And?”

She scowled.

“I’m still in mourning.”

“And I don’t like black on you,” He countered with the same tone, his dark depths barely lighted by a mutinous light.

Her eyes flared. How did it matter for him if she wore it or not?

“I won’t step out of it just to humor you, Rhett.”

Not when my pain is true.

“You did once. And you will soon. So why not begin now? The dead wouldn’t want you to stay like this forever if they loved you so much.”

“I don’t have a reason to.”

His eyes were surprisingly alert and waiting on her.

“Seek and ye shall find, my dear! I’m sure you know this one.”

At this she wanted to throw back some intelligent-sounding quote at him, to tell him to stop this, but to her dismay, she realized she found none. She frowned, feeling suddenly defeated. He would always have the upper hand, she thought with dismay.

“Don’t be condescending, Rhett,” She said softly, shaking her head wearily. “I don’t want to play this game with you.”

“Oh, no? That’s unfortunate,” He replied, and his eyes seemed softer on her. “You should. You might find it… very enlightening.”

She sighed.

“You won’t stop until I do it, will you?”

He grinned and raised her chin towards him.

“You know me all too well. Now smile at me. You’re lovelier when you smile. Isn’t it what you said to Ella? It applies to you as well, you know. Though anger does make your eyes brighter.”

She bit her lip. Then glowered.

“You once said I’ll be buried in it.”

“I don’t remember it being the whole story, dear Scarlett,” He said, before looking behind her. “Wade, Ella, could you please help me persuading your mother to accept this charming little hat?”

“Don’t be foolish, Rhett, Wade doesn’t…”

“Oh, Mother, do try it on!” Wade exclaimed, surprising her in the process. “Ella, don’t you think Mother would be prettier with it?”

“Oh, yes, do, mama!”

Was God even against her that afternoon? Scarlett was sure he might be.

She crossed her arms, before angrily putting the hat on, her mood so on edge she could barely tie the knot. With a light chuckle, her husband helped her, before appraising the result with a satisfied nod. Ella shrieked while Wade smiled, and Scarlett wondered, irritated, why the fuss they needed to have about a stupid little hat.

Until she finally looked at her reflection and was entirely fascinated with the way it made her eyes seemed bigger. She cocked her head a little to one side, wondering if maybe, for once, she could….

She shook her head.

“My, Scarlett, you look like an angry little kitten.”

She huffed, before suddenly realizing the presence of Pansy in the room.

Not only it provided a diversion, but she also found she was glad to see the black woman, visibly well and healthy.

“Oh, Pansy, there you are!” She greeted, ignoring Rhett’s surprised blink. “Are you better?”

Pansy raised wide eyes at her.

“Well, yes, I am, Mrs.”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, a bit pained by the return of her title.

“I’m glad of it,” She said simply. “Well… could you help me with my corset? And call Prissy for the children. They need to be cleaned up.”

And so it did, and after that, dinner was surprisingly filled with talks, Wade eagerly describing his day with Beau and asking questions about Ella’s future birthday party. Ella replied cheerfully, and Scarlett could not help but reveal Raoul Picard, his sisters and his friends would be there too. She noted with satisfaction that Rhett was surprised at that.

Then, they finally found their way back to the study, and Scarlett found herself soothed by such a habit that had been created between them. Despite that bitter little voice that told her it might not last.

“Do you want to add anything, Wade?” She asked him when they finally settled on the couch, with a fondness she could not hide that made her lightly caress his cheek. Then, uneasy, she thought he might need some encouragement. “Your addition was very welcome, and I’m glad you shared it.”

Wade frowned, then shook his head. She felt a bit disappointed, but continued.

“The morning after, the old woman gave her last warning to Solene and Mary. She told them of two ways that could help them find what they were looking for.

“’Above all,’ She said, ‘do not take the weeping willow’s one, for it is a treacherous one, and you’d risk your life taking it. There might be a greater reward on this way, but believe me, it’d be safer to take the crow’s.’”

“A crow?” Wade asked, his little brown brows coming together in an arch. “Doesn’t it seem more dangerous than a weeping willow?”

Surprised, she blinked, then tried to find an answer to that little detail she put haphazardly without expecting someone to question it.

“At some extent, maybe,” She admitted. “What do you mean by it?”

“Well, a crow always brings bad news, so the saying said, and it’s not a really nice bird…”

She scowled, remembering Rhett’s earlier comparison, while he laughed softly.

“You are correct, Wade,” He said. “That is certainly not a nice bird. My, it can even claw and put out your eyes if it is angry enough.”

She would show him, how she could claw his mocking little eyes!

“Well,” She said defiantly. “This one was a nice bird indeed.”

“Oh,” Wade said innocently. “So what made the crow so different, then?”

“It had a long experience with life and no roots to bind it. Experience had made wiser and kinder, while the weeping willow didn’t.”

She was quite proud of her reply, but then Wade demanded more explanations and she found herself creating a little story she had not envisioned at the beginning.

“The crow, you see,” She continued. “was from an ancient breed of gentle birds, and despite its color, was actually very respected by the other animals. To all, it would give counsels, and generally, it proved to be good ones. It was once the crow of a king, who decided once to retire early in its career and built its nest here to offer quiet admonitions and advice to turbulent children who crossed his way. Once, it gave one to a little girl, and she ended up as a proper lady, kind and generous to all.

“Solene was confronted with two choices when she finally reached the crossroad. Either she used the way with the weeping willow, dangerous and dark but surprisingly exciting, either she used the way of the old and wise crow, long and safe. She could see Mary wanted to follow the old woman’s advice, yet she was somehow attracted to the weeping willow’s way”

“Solene has always been the most adventurous of the two,” Rhett intervened, amused. “Can the weeping willow talk?”

She blinked.

“Well, no…”

“And other trees could? My, Scarlett, you’re strangely selective with your characters’ abilities…”

“This is my story,” She said stubbornly. “I get to decide.”

“I’m sure it has a very interesting story, mother, “ Wade intervened. “Would you please tell it? I’m curious about it.”

He had a so expectant light in his eyes she could not bear to let him down.

“Well… If you wish to. I could try to add it,” She cleared her throat, nonetheless ill-at-ease with his intervention. Another image of another weeping willow came to her and she scowled unwillingly; “Solene didn’t know which way to choose, when suddenly a voice called her.

“’Woman,’ it said. ‘You have no right to come into my way. It is a men’s way, I will not allow you to do so.’

“Solene was very offended by it, while Mary softly whispered some excuses, and asked him what it was all about.

“’Many treasures can be found in my way, but you, as a woman, is not worthy of it. Keep your pure little hands in your sash where it belongs, and let the men find it for you.’

“Solene could not help but curse the disrespectful tree.”

“Great balls of fire!” Ella gleefully added. “That’s what she said, right?”

Scarlett frowned at her daughter using one of her curses, wondering if she should scold her for her improperness, then laughed. “She might have. The tree was really rude to her. Then, she attempted to mock it by saying how old he was.”

“’Old I may be,’ He scowled. ‘But my way is the cause of numerous deaths of brave men. Why, one man came to me this morning and went to his loss!”

“And what about that man?” Wade eagerly asked. “What did he want to find?”

Scarlett frowned, a bit irritated, before hesitantly replying.

“The man… He wanted to be rich and notorious,” 

“Only that?” Rhett lightly teased. “Surely, there might a grander story behind it.”

“Well, then, you’ll hear it next time!” She scolded, before composing herself. “It’s time to bed, children.”

The children nodded, then went for their goodnight kiss. Wade stayed a little behind, surprising her.

“Mother, Uncle Rhett…” He said, a serious expression on his little face. “I wanted to excuse myself for my past behaviors. It was really improper of me. I hope you can forgive me.”

She smiled at him, feeling an intense and unexpected feeling of pride at her little boy. It was in this little moment she finally convinced herself that maybe she wasn’t that terrible of a mother and Ellen would not be that disappointed on her. She opened her arms to him and he accepted it with a smile, before stepping away.

Then, to her surprise, she saw Wade step towards his stepfather and put his arms around him. A tiny hint of jealousy overcame her, and she wondered how her husband made it so easy for people to forgive him and love him.

“Good work, son,” She could not help but hear Rhett whisper as he embraced her little boy back.

Wade’s face flushed with proud satisfaction.

She frowned, watching then her two children leaving the room.

“It seems you talked with Wade,” Scarlett said with dismay.

“He’s a good boy, and a very intelligent one.”

“Are you two united in one of these dubious plans of yours to drive me crazy?”

“My, you certainly are quite offended by a little questioning. I thought you might be pleased by our curiosity, for it is a proof of our interest in your story.”

She narrowed her eyes on him, then sighed, deciding to let this go. For now.

“He’s so much like Melly in some ways.”

“Some perhaps. But he’s much like you too.”

She frowned, not knowing where he wanted to go with that.

“How so?”

“Are you looking for compliments, my pet?” He lightly teased. “He’s stubborn to a fault and doesn’t know how to hide his thoughts.”

Frustrated, she hit him on the elbow while he openly laughed at her.

“Sorry, dear, I could not resist. Some habits die hard.”

“My, then it’s a wonder you managed to find your way back to good society!” She retorted.

“Believe me, it’s been hell to hold my tongue and pretend.”

She stared at him, but could not stop snorting at it.

“You’re terrible,” She said, laughter still on her tone. “Poor man, did you suffer that much?”

“You have no idea. At least, here, I don’t have to.”

From all the moments, these companionable times were the worst for her heart.

She cleared her throat, then raised, making her way suddenly to the door.

“Goodnight, my love,” She muttered.

“Goodnight, my love,” was thrown back at her.

She stumbled and he chuckled. She turned abruptly towards him, her eyes alert and dumbfounded. To her dismay, her mouth was agape as well.

He had the audacity to smirk at her, his head nodding dramatically.

She narrowed her eyes.

As if it was all a joke!

Her eyes flashed at this, and she saw red. That was when she realized that if he always won, it was mostly because of her unwillingness to learn, she let him.

She closed the door behind her in fury. However, once in her room, she found herself waiting for the sounds of his footsteps in the corridor.

No, nothing would change. Keeping up the stories were not enough, especially now with her situation.

She had to find ways to fight back.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all for your support!! I really appreciate it. Do not hesitate to leave a comment.  
> Enjoy this chapter (who’s… quite longer than usual)!

Had Scarlett been prone to deep and analytical introspections, she might have realized the reason why she wasn’t afraid anymore of the men who had threatened her and who were now her accomplices (though they might not think her so) was that she had actually realized these men could be handled now that she had found out what they wanted; which was not the case with her husband. She would have realized it was the contract she was afraid of, for it settled her definitely against Rhett, a position that thrilled her, but also had such an acid aftertaste to it because it might be as effective as a signature on the divorce papers if he ever found out.

Instead, her mind had made it so that it was an adventure, a way to best Rhett once and for all.

He wanted to play that game, uh, play with her heart like that ? She was going to show him she could play too.

She would drive him mad with desire before she finally leaves. She would let it all accumulate, soft and tender at first so it might go almost unnoticed, like the routine they should have kept when it mattered (though in her mind she thought it would be a great idea to distract him from what she was going to do), until it boiled and burned, until he had no other choice but to take her to bed.

And then she would leave, with his taste on her lips and the triumph of knowing she ruined him in so many ways. And in the end, she’d feel nothing at all, but the pride of knowing she was the one that got away.

Sadly, she didn’t yet know how precisely. At least not yet. But certainly, a plan may come soon enough, she thought as she was still trying to hear if some noise came from his room to enter and look through his things.

“Dear, what are you doing in front of my door?”

“Nothing,” She gulped, turning toward him like a child at fault.

He looked at her in puzzled amusement, leaning casually on the wall beside her as he waited for her to continue.

Damn him and his sneaking in like a cat!

What could she say?

Seek, Scarlett, seek…

“Actually,” She pulled herself together. “Any donation you want to make? For the orphanage, I mean. I realize we may not need that many things in here, with you often away and me and the children… Well, I believe it’s time for a change.”

“Why don’t you try to make an auction of it?” He suggested, not leaving his spot near the door. “It would be more profitable for the orphanage to get money than additional gaudy pieces of furniture, don’t you think?”

“An auction?” Her eyes brightened as the idea took roots, turning emerald. “What a grand idea! Oh, I could kiss you for it!”

“You could.”

She blinked, then stared at his lips, trying to ignore the goading glint of his black orbs.

Well, she did want to seduce him… Maybe it could be a beginning? She felt suddenly powerful with her resolution.

Scarlett O’Hara, a seductress? It would be more likely than he thought. And once he’d get into her trap…

“Oh, really?” She purred, taking a step forward and noticing with satisfaction that he did not try to move. Lightly, she put her hands on his chest, raising a little on her toes to reach his level as his eyes were on her, daring her to do more. She leaned in, humming, her eyes half-closed. Under her hands, she could feel the beatings of his heart, echoing her own. A tight feeling of expectation came over her as she ran her tongue lightly at the bottom of her mouth. One breath away and their lips would be sealed. Or not, she thought with triumph as she pushed him at the last moment, when she was sure his eyes were closed. “Well, maybe another time. If you’re nice enough.”

He let out a snort, but if he was surprised, he did not let it show. “Tease.”

She blew a raspberry at him, deeply satisfied to have distracted him so, and vaguely remembering why she had decided to.

She collected Ella and went to the store, still quite giddy over her first step.

Pansy came to visit in the morning to bring the delicacies she had asked her to for India’s sewing session, and she had the surprise to see that Vendredi, John, or no matter what his real name was, had suddenly disappeared when a few seconds ago he was at the counter with Charlie.

Scarlett then proceeded to check the accounts, before locking her part cautiously in her new chest. Finally, she looked over at the new commands in preparation and was very much at it when John knocked on her door and entered with a determinate step, taking care to close behind him. He went over her desk and took a paper-knife that was laying on it, his finger testing the blade.

Scarlett felt a little unease at that, but she took it as a way of intimidation, and she was certainly not going to show it to him.

“Do you know where you have to hit to annihilate a man?” He suddenly asked her.

Surprised, she put down her pen and stared at him.

“I don’t think you are aware enough of the danger of the situations you might face. And I don’t want to have your life on my conscience.”

He sighed, before gesturing her to come. Distrustful, she raised, but did not go closer. He shook his head, dismayed, before finally putting the sharp edge on his abdomen.

“Here. It’s better if you hit from the bottom, and then towards the heart. Avoid the bone of the middle, you might get the knife stuck.”

She crossed her arms, unimpressed.

“It sounds easy enough.”

“You can also try the loins and the throat.”

“It is highly improper, do you really think I will get that close to someone to apply these tricks?”

He looked at her as if she had grown a second head. She thought she heard one grumpy “why do I bother?”, before finally he put the knife in her hand.

“Here, take it. Try.”

Her eyes widened at his serious face, and she decided to humor it. After all, why not? It could be useful.

She tried to replicate the gesture towards his abdomen.

“Like this?”

But he had already dodged. She tried again, this time at the throat. Dodged again. But finally, feeling very wrathful, she aimed at the loins.

Before freezing as she heard the knock on the door.

“Mrs.,” Hugh said as he entered. “Your husband is waiting for you. Do you… need help?”

He paused, looking at the paper knife still in her hand, pointed at John’s belly.

Scarlett straightened, still very much irritated and waved it off.

“No, Hugh. Mr. Smith here doubted my ability to cut the paper properly, and I wanted to remind him I knew how to use it and if he dared question me again about this, the door was very much open.”

With these words, she turned away and left the room in a confident rustle of fabric.

“Beware, lad,” She heard Hugh whisper with grudging compassion at the man. “If you anger her too much, you might really get killed.”

She almost laughed at it. But at least, it seemed to provide a common ground between the two.

She sashayed toward the counter, looking over at her husband who was leaning on it casually, his eyes raking boldly over her body.

“Is it going to be a recurring occurrence?”

“Why not?” He crossed his arms, his teeth gleaming in a lopsided grin. “Tell me, dear, do you always carry a paper-knife with you, or it’s just for me?”

She put it down defiantly.

“Not everything has to be about you, my beloved husband.”

“Oh, you wound me, Scarlett.”

“Besides, I doubt a paper-knife would be enough,” She huffed, before bypassing him, her skirt touching lightly his tight pants. “Wait here, I still have to find Ella.”

But on her way, she was stopped by the sight of the little boy she had tried to catch not so long ago. Her eyes widened in surprise as she saw him look at his surroundings, for the moment unaware of her presence.

“Oh, that damn urchin!” Her manager scowled behind her, beginning to march in fury towards the boy. “If I catch him…”

“Don’t, Hugh,” She hissed as she pulled him by the sleeve and hid behind some shelves. “Go check what John is doing. I’m taking care of it.”

Hugh grumbled, but complied. At least, she could use his suspicion at her advantage.

She was looking attentively at the scene when Rhett finally joined her with the lightness of steps of a panther coming at her prey.

“Scarlett?”

She scowled, startled, then gestured him to stay silent.

“Hush,” She hissed. “It’s been several times that boy tries to sneak in. I wonder what he will try to steal now. What is he looking at?”

Rhett, amused by her behavior, decided to humor her and was the first one to see it, his gaze stopping at little Ella who had stopped eating her sweets and walked toward the boy. Her hand was reaching out for him with some of it.

At her side, her husband chuckled.

“Oho.”

She glared at him, exasperated.

“What, ‘oho’?”

He stared at her in disbelief.

“Oh, darling, you can’t mean to say you don’t see it? Surely now, with your newfound wisdom… But I forget you still need it to be spelled for you. Well, I’m not going to do so. You’ve been improving so much lately, I’d be disappointed if you don’t see it.”

His eyes were twinkling.

“You’re decided to be insufferable, that I can see.”

He was too close, like always. His warm breath was distracting her, tickling her earlobe in a way that surprisingly thrilled her. She blinked, trying to focus on another thing than her husband’s smirk so close to her. She stared at her daughter that was babbling joyfully, her hand out for the boy. The urchin had a greedy glint in his eyes as he hesitantly took a step forward.

“You mean to say…” She began as it clicked.

“I believe we see the beginning of a young love, my dear.”

“What?” She protested. “No. No, absolutely not. Ella is just being a sweetheart.”

“She must be, indeed. But that boy over there is clearly subjugated.”

“Sub… what are you getting on about?”

“Charmed, bewitched, moonstruck, heads over heels, captivated, whatever words you like, my pet.”

“How you do run on. Ella is a little girl!”

“Love doesn’t have an age. She won’t be a little girl forever.”

Pondering over his words, she considered the boy, his dirty face and rags.

“He’s… not suitable.”

Rhett guffawed, but she put her hand on his mouth so that the sound would not reach the children. Yet, it made her focus on his eyes that were laughing at her, and these lips under that mustache that were grazing her skin softly, just like kisses.

She let it down, hoping not to betray the sudden rush in her heart and he took advantage of it to continue.

“Not suitable? My little hypocrite, I didn’t know you were that much of a snob. It’s a childhood sweetheart, he doesn’t have to have some great pedigree about him.”

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett! Would you have accepted him as Bonnie’s?” She defied him.

“What are you talking about, my dear?” He chided. “I was Bonnie’s sweetheart. She didn’t need another one.”

“Rhett, you were her darling papa,” She retorted. “Certainly that had to be enough, even for your enormous ego. She would have met a boy one day, and her heart would have been swayed.”

“Bonnie wouldn’t have approached any boy before her eighteenth anniversary.”

He even looked serious with that.

She rolled her eyes. “Or maybe never.”

“Never would have been good, actually. Boys are so troublesome.”

“For a daughter of ours, I doubt she would have liked to be locked away with her old daddy.” She shook her head, a wistful smile on her lips. “No. I think I would have been the one to try and sneak her out so she may find a husband.”

“You would have betrayed me so?” He affected a betrayed air that did not fool her, until the corner of his mouth lowered in a teasing quirk. “And with your history of husbands, I don’t think with your guidance, she would have found someone good enough for her.”

The flame burned in her eyes.

“Well, I did meet you, didn’t I? Though my mother would certainly not have found you suitable, I believe,” She crossed her arms, unwilling to meet his eyes for the moment, and preferring to take on the scene before them.

“Well, at least, his eyes are innocent,” She continued absent-mindedly. “Maybe you’re right. For a childhood sweetheart, she could do worst.”

“Innocent?”

She fumbled over her words.

“You know, he… Well, of course, you know!”

“What a twisted mind you have, my pet,” He said with an amused smile. “What gives you this idea?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Something you already lived.”

“Well, now that you said it, I do remember during a barbecue someone looking at me as if they knew how I was without my shimmy.”

“Oh, you do remember? How observant and what a good memory you have. That gentleman must be flattered to know this, especially considering how many beaux were at your side, that day.”

“He would be insufferable about it. If he knew it.”

“Oh, I’m sure he knew it,” He purred. “So, about childhood sweethearts, certainly you must have had a lot of them. Or… Was Ashley your childhood sweetheart?” He added sneakily as she winced. “So that was a little from personal experience you were talking. Well, that does explain things. Your evident fixation on him and your will to compensate so many years lost by turning the heads of all the boys of the Counties. But no need to glower at me like that, dear,” He sighed dramatically. “Poor girl, all secluded at home, having to wait a little more to make her way in the world. You must have suffered greatly….”

“Oh, hush! Not that much. My family was… well, very religious, if you must know. And… there might have been some little story going on about my younger self jumping with only my shimmy into the river with Stuart Tarleton…”

“How devious of you, my dear. It surprises me you were allowed to leave the house since then.”

“I must have had been barely five years! And it was so hot that day!” She protested, before laughing in nostalgia. “Oh, Mrs. Tarleton was so outraged! And Mother! I’ve never seen her so embarrassed! Mammy was furious. ‘Miz Scahlett, it ain’t fitting! Tink of what people will tink of your family and you poor mother!’”

He roared in laughter.

“Scarlett O’Hara, creating mischief even in diapers. I would have liked to see that!”

At this, the boy raised his head in alarm and took to his heels like a scaredy cat. Little Ella blinked, unsettled by such a behavior, then lowered her head in disappointment.

Scarlett huffed, her hands on her hips in dismay as she glared at the man in front of her.

“Well, it seems you made him leave, husband.”

He shook his head with the last remnants of his laughter.

“How sad for little Ella. She was making her first conquest.”

“But not her last.”

“Oh, I can see you’re preparing something, my darling.”

“She’s my daughter. I intend to see her well-established and happy.”

“I’m glad you think so,” He teased. “About the happy part.”

“My, Rhett, do you really think I do not care about her happiness?”

“I would have lied if it did not cross my mind once or twice in all of our marriage life. But few parents do, actually. Marriages are often done to conclude a deal, money…”

Her eyes glistened in triumph as she realized what he may refer to.

“You’re still not over my answer to your proposal.”

“Well, a man in love generally does not like that kind of answer.”

“You’re the one who suggested it!” She crossed her arms. “And I did say I was fond of you, at the time.”

“Oh, yes, I remember that part. Fondly.”

“I certainly don’t know why you still care now. What could I have said? That I loved you madly? You wouldn’t have believed it, and I wouldn’t have believed it either! At that time…”

“You were completely overcome by your passion for Ashley.”

“I was about to say I was determined I would not be beguiled to be another one of your mistresses, so I could not possibly admit being more than fond of you, but I guess now I prefer your explanation.”

“… You did say it.”

“I didn’t. You must have misheard.”

“I guess it doesn’t matter, then.”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean to achieve by telling me this?”

“Nothing.”

“Really?” His eyebrows arched in disbelief. “Not any attempt to seduce me, another declaration of love and hope that I will feel the same way?”

There was a certain tension in his voice, an almost expectation she did not dare to contemplate.

“No. Would it work if I did?” She shrugged. “No, I don’t think so. It wouldn’t be enough, not for you, and not for me. I guess I’m just coming to terms with what happened. You know, I think it was really accurate when I say I must have loved you for years, but I was such a fool I did not know it. How many times have I wanted you to say you loved me? How many times I wondered at it, before something threw me off that trail, and I told myself you couldn’t possibly. When I went to the jail, for example. I was so determined I would get the money out of you, and then I saw you and you began to be so kind and close, I… almost forgot. It felt so surprising to me when it felt so easy to blush and cry at seeing you. I believed myself a great actress then, but in fact maybe the emotions were real, and I didn’t want to see it as such. ‘It’s almost as if I was in love with him’, I had thought, but then to my mind how could I possibly? There was Ashley, and Ashley was predictable and safe, and there were all these women the Yankee soldier told me had visited you and said they were your sisters. I guess I was a little bit frightened of it, you know. How many women had you had between your arms? How many had you dismissed? But then, at one point, I didn’t care. I had so badly wanted you to kiss me then. I felt excited, and a little nervous. At least until you saw my hands, and then I remembered my purpose…”

“Why are you telling me that?” His voice was hoarse, insistent and his eyes a dark burning pool.

Certainly it must have been her imagination. Or maybe a last remnant of desire for her, for Rhett had always had a huge amount of it, and she knew in her mind that even if he did not love a woman anymore, that wouldn’t stop him from wanting.

She blinked. But the words did not stop. And with them the emotions of longing slowly leaving her so quickly she thought she might be left an empty shell. Oh, what it would be not to feel, with him by her side. How easier it would be…

“Nostalgia, I believe. There are so many things I did not understand then and that I always said I would think of it in the morrow and it’s coming back to me and I can’t help but think about it, with all the things I know now. It’s like… I had piled it all in a box, until finally it broke and all the things I had kept in there kept spilling around. It’s like when Ashley told me of the County, of all that had been lost, at the mills, and then I couldn’t stop looking back, and then it was all so heavy I couldn’t stop the tears and he tried to comfort me and then India came and…”

He stared at her for a long time, and if she had not been so deep in her thoughts and her flood of words, she would have certainly heard him whisper “so this was what it was all about…” She shook her head. She needed to stop talking. She was a new woman now. Her fists clenched. She guessed it was her way to say goodbye to all these memories to then focus more on her objectives, just like he did when he left Atlanta after the death of Melly, but now it was too much. He might think it was a last call for a love he didn’t want to give. 

Damn, she had thought to make him feel that he was missing something by not wanting to be with her, but that was certainly not that!

“Don’t let the past eat you too much, Scarlett,” He said softly. “You might not see what is waiting for you in the present.”

She sighed, looking away, trying to ignore his breath on her face, and the way his fingers were gripping her shoulders, as if he was afraid she would evaporate.

“You’re right. I guess I needed to talk to someone about that, and you’ve always been the one I could turn to… then. My children are waiting,” She cleared her throat, then pulled away. “Ella, dear, are you ready to go to lunch?”

Her daughter raised her head towards her and grinned.

“Were you making a new friend, baby?”

“His name is Billy.”

“You’ve… already talked to him?”

“Are you angry, mama?” Ella seemed to shrink a little at this. “It’s just that one day, I saw him and I asked him, and then Hugh came and…”

“Sh-sh. Ella, it’s alright. You’ve done the right thing.”

Why did it seem an ongoing effort to maintain a nice, pleasant relationship with one’s daughter? Scarlett thought with dismay. Why one word and everything seemed to be doubted?

The young woman sighed. She still had a lot of things to learn.

She patted Ella’s head, hoping it might be enough.

She took the basket Pansy left her at the counter and followed her husband, her hand firm on the little one of her daughter, and almost gripping as she felt Rhett’s hand on her lower back, and his breath on her cheek.

“Did you bring these pastries for me, darling?” He said after helping them settle on the buggy, casually leaning in to see the content of her basket. “They look appetizing.”

“You conceited hound,” She lightly chided, an amused smile on her lips. “Of course, they are not for you.”

Why did this buggy had to be that narrow? Their shoulders were almost merging now!

“Oh, do you have to wound me so? Are you going to tell me for whom it will be?””

“Do I have to tell you everything?”

“Oh, another one of your little secrets, my dear?” Is it going to be a habit?”

“Oh, not so much. I know you’ll find out soon enough, so why tell you now?”

His twinkling eyes were still on her, insistent and laughing. She sighed, giving in.

Finally, he stopped and went out of the buggy, helping little Ella before turning to her side.

“It’s for Wade and Ella. I mean… It’s for members of the Old Guards. I’m trying…” Her hands fidgeted a little on the handle of the basket. “You were right, I should have been more cautious. And if now I have to crawl… well, so be it. I just hope it’s not too late.”

She felt his hand on hers, and it sent sparks on her body that made her shiver a little.

He patted her hand, let it go. Then he presented it to her, a slight grin on his face. She almost gasped, before reaching out in what could have been seen as a timid way (though why it would be seen like that, she did not want to think about it. She was no ninny, mind you!).

She was surprisingly talkative during the meal, though her mind was still rehearsing the way she was going to act and talk during her visit on Ivy Street. She needed to make an impression, or rather to begin to erase the one she created so carelessly, when all she had in her head was a quest for easy pleasures and petty jealousies.

Rhett replied in kind, but she could feel his gaze on her, undecipherable but (thank God) not hostile.

“So, where do you want to go next?” Rhett asked when finally he settled them back in the buggy.

“Could you bring Ella home?” She said softly. “India invited me to the sewing session of the group.”

“India, you say? Couldn’t it be, India Wilkes, your nemesis?”

“My what?”

“That’s a pretty name!” Ella intervened cheerfully. “Who is nemesis?”

He chuckled.

“Nemesis, my dear Ella, was the Greek goddess of wrath and revenge. She was so feared and celebrated her name became another word to say an enemy. Or a rival.”

And I’m your Nemesis, Scarlett thought. I am, or I am going to be, and for the moment you don’t see. And when you’ll see, it might certainly be too late, my love.

Deep in her thoughts, she did not realize when the buggy stopped in front of the house on Ivy Street, and was awaken by Rhett’s sudden request.

“So that was what the pastries all about, then,” Came his cheerful comment. “Could you please transmit my greetings to that dear Miss Wilkes?”

She froze and blinked, suspicious, then nodded. Her eyes narrowed a little as his brows arched under her scrutiny.

She barely took notice when he helped her get down, her mind all focused on her new task.

Now was her moment to crawl to get their favor again.

At least for the moment.

She squared her shoulders, then took time to put a demure expression on her face.

“Till tonight, my brave little soldier,” She heard Rhett laughing lightly at her as he whipped the horse to continue his way home.

She huffed a little, then walked determinately towards the entrance, smiling as Ella’s greeting “bye mama!” came at her ears.

She held her breath a little, then knocked lightly. Soon enough India opened, and though at first a scowl came to her, she let her enter. This sign of adversity somehow gave Scarlett all the strength she needed to go on and she sashayed in the hall, removing her hat and gloves. The show was beginning, and she rang the start of it with a clear and loud voice.

“Thank you, dear India, for inviting me. I know how busy you are. I’ve brought some pastries.”

She then proceeded to join the group, eyes downcast demurely like the poor ashamed and grieving woman she was. Suspicion was still in Mrs. Merriwhether’s eyes, a little less on Mrs Elsing and her daughter’s hopefully. India looked bored out of her mind, her smile frozen on her face. Surprisingly, there was pity on Mrs. Meade’s eyes on her. It took all Scarlett’s willpower not to reply to some of their snide remarks, but soon enough, she remarked that adding allusions of Melly and Bonnie not only added some genuineness to her act, for she really felt still acutely their losses, but made them ashamed and guilty of such an unchristian act. Especially when she sounded so weak, so sad and quiet!

See, Melly, she thought with satisfaction. Your memory still lives on. You’re still protecting me against these old peahens. You’d be proud of me, I know. I do it for Wade and Ella.

“Do you have news about the orphanage, Scarlett?” Maybelle asked with a kind, if not a little condescending smile.

Barely concealing a smirk, that’s when Scarlett decided to attack, insisting a lot on her unworthiness, but also on her will for redemption. When she evoked her mother and the children, the emotions were almost genuine, and she saw that some gazes had softened. Mrs. Merriwether was still unimpressed, but she knew she would follow the movement.

After all, what kind of woman would refuse to donate for orphans?

Little by little, most of the women in the group accepted to do some parts in it, some more begrudgingly than others, and Scarlett was especially satisfied to see she had definitely rallied Maybelle, Fanny, and surprisingly Mrs. Meade at her side.

They decided to prepare it for the next Friday, with maybe a little reception. It sounded almost like a good party, and the youngest ones were a bit excited about the idea.

From the insistence of India’s glances, the woman wanted to have answers. And fortunately for her, not only Scarlett had had time to think about it, but she was in a state of mind where she was decided to thwart any of her husband’s plans. If only to stop him from grinning in such a satisfied knowing way.

This was why, after many gestures from India’s side insisting they meet and her allusions on taking back the plates to the kitchen, Scarlett finally decided to join her after an average of ten minutes alone sewing with the other women.

A little more and she would not have been able to conceal the yawn that was threatening her.

But unfortunately, it seemed fate had decided to send some obstacles on her way to the kitchen, though hopefully, it had the good taste to put the scene in a place (near the stairs) where no one would be there to see.

Obstacle being the hapless Ashley Wilkes, the shadow of a golden youth long gone, and clear eyes looking in the distance with a melancholy that made her want to shake him to wake him up.

“Hello Scarlett.”

“Hello Ashley.”

Her voice was tired and a little bit annoyed as her gaze met those of her first love, his eyes pleading like those of a puppy and hands a little bit too nervous.

“You seem to be fine.”

“I am.”

“We are still friends… are we?”

“We are, Ashley.”

“Then… can we talk?”

“I don’t think now is a good idea.”

“Is it because of your husband?”

“I don’t want to talk about my husband with you, Ashley,” She sighed, then put a pleasant smile on her face. “My, Ashley, don’t look so grim. Melly wouldn’t have wanted that.”

“Melly…”

She had to cut him there.

“Oh, Ashley, can’t you see?” Her eyes softened as she chided. “You have your family. You have India, you have Beau. Isn’t it enough for you to be happy?”

“And you… are you happy?” He said hesitantly. “You know, I feel… responsible for you.”

She frowned, wanting to shake him. Responsible for her? When had he been responsible for her? Responsible for her misery, yes, and that still while retaining the appearance of the reluctant man! Never had he ever done anything for her, and she had been the one to urge some customers to buy from his mills.

Rhett had been right, as always, but it was still a cross she had to bear. What would Melly think, if she just let her husband in such a state, and with maybe a potential bankrupt if India continued her clumsy tricks?

Was she happy? No, not really, especially now that she knew she could have been if she hadn’t been such a fool over the memory of that man. And yet, seeing him look at her with such pleading eyes, she knew she couldn’t tell him the truth.

“I am.”

He looked a her, but she realized he was already too far gone in his own reality. A reality where he was still the gentleman of Twelve Oaks, husband to Melanie Wilkes and reluctant suitor of Scarlett O’Hara. A reality where he couldn’t believe she’d be happy without his attention.

She shook her head, unwilling to think about it more. It all seemed so stupid now.

“India is waiting for me,” She finally said.

“Oh. Alright.” He blinked, before taking the stairs.

She huffed, still a little bit annoyed by him, before joining his sister in the kitchen. Said sister who had an eager light on her eyes.

She huffed even more. God’s nightgown, Rhett had told her she was the most obvious woman ever, but what would he say in front of such a woman?

“Have you learned anything?”

She pondered over it, but soon enough her irritation overcame any feeling of uneasiness at sharing her thoughts on Rhett’s plans. If Rhett was interested in buying Twelve Oaks, there must be a reason, she thought. The source of petroleum must be in there, and he wanted to invest. Why else would he do that? But what about Tara? Maybe it was to be safe.

Never mind. If it was indeed linked to that source of petroleum, it could be a way to fulfill her promise to Melly with all the money that would be gained from it. Ashley would not be a burden on her shoulders anymore. And certainly, if these men really worked for the Government, there might be a way to get some funds, with their own in power.

It would be like killing two birds in one shot. Or three, because Rhett wouldn’t be pleased that his investment failed. But after all, he had a lot of money already, so that would just be a matter of ego.

Decidedly, Scarlett was more and more pleased with her reasoning.

“Not a lot. But I have to tell you. Don’t accept anything now. You were right, something is going on, but I do believe in time other persons will be interested. I suggest you wait for the highest bidder.”

“And what if… I decide to keep it?”

“Then, it’ll be a ruin on the short term,” She said firmly, her eyes hard and unyielding. “What do you prefer, money now or the potentiality of a financial ruin without even any money at the end?”

India winced over such an internal conflict her nature had not prepared her for. She would never be one to negotiate and see by herself what was really good for her, Scarlett realized. She had to be pushed to it.

“I still don’t know what is so special now.”

“I am not sure. But you’ll have to trust me when I ask you to wait.”

“I guess it’s reasonable. Surprisingly for you.”

You might be surprised by other things I will do, she thought wryly.

“So… about the ball?” She said instead casually.

India blinked, then conceded.

“Well, they decided to do it on Monday, in two weeks now. Apparently, they are expecting an English Lord in a few days and thought to celebrate his arrival.”

“A lord?”

“Yes. Lord… Falmouth. Finton, or something like that,” She scoffed. “Another one of these rich men who think they can take advantage of everyone and everything.”

Like your husband, her contemptuous glare seemed to say. Like you.

“Good,” Scarlett said pleasantly, a satisfied smile on her face.

Her wide smile was still there when at the end of the session she joined Rhett and the children for dinner and they gathered in the study.

“The weeping willow began to tell his story,” She began.

“’Hear me,’ He said. ‘For this strange morning…’”

“Strange how?” Wade asked with excitation. “Was it rainy?”

“Was It cloudy?” Rhett added, an infuriating little grin in his face. “Dark and gloomy? A morning to wake the dead?”

Scarlett frowned, her bottom lip raising in an angry pout at the interventions, but she managed to let it go.

“A few drops only, maybe, but not that dramatic,” She quipped.

“Good. Because generally, it is of a better taste to try to wake the dead at night.”

“Everyone knows that,” Wade nodded very seriously.

“Who said anything about waking the dead?” Scarlett snapped. “It was a bit cloudy and grey, though not so dark.”

“Was it cold?” Ella asked eagerly.

Oh, not you too! Scarlett thought.

“Alright, let’s be clear,” She snapped. “It was a grey morning, a bit of drops, not very cold, but otherwise very normal. Let the weeping willow continue!

“’I was mighty bored that day, and the crow was sleeping, so I could not talk with him, who is my dearest friend…’”

“What would he talk about, with the crow?” Rhett mused. “Some very existential matter, I believe?”

“Existen-… Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett!”

“Why? Isn’t it a very pertinent question?”

She shook her head stubbornly and continued.

“’Then came a man with golden hair and silver armor. He wanted to find gold and glory and asked the way to do so. He said there were two other men coming with him…”

“Two other men?” Wade interrupted eagerly. “Would you tell their stories, Mother?”

“Soon, sweetheart, soon, but listen,” Scarlett frowned. “And, no, don’t even try, Rhett (he settled back with a smirk). I see that little glint in your eyes, and it won’t work! Well, never mind. The man took the way of the weeping willow, but the way, you see, was magic and only led those who were worthy to its treasure. And this man during the way did not prove his worthiness, for he was very stupid and was distracted by a lady he met, but who was very much married. He lost his head on the way.”

“What a scandal… will you…”

“No, Rhett, I won’t.”

“But Mother…”

“Not you too, Wade,” She tried to laugh at it. “You’re greedy ones.”

Wade lowered his head, embarrassed, but Rhett grinned lazily.

“Oh, you know you like it.”

She could not help but grin as well. But did not comment. Still, it awoke in her an uneasiness that made her return to the original story.

“And with that story, Solene and Mary decided to take the crow’s way. But at that time, a man came from nowhere. It was the intolerable and terrible pirate Robert!

“’Hello dearie,’ he said, wearing the most intolerable grin on his malevolent dark little face. ‘Missed me?’

“Oh, no, certainly not that intolerable, my dear,” Rhett chuckled. “If you keep mentioning it like that each time he comes.”

Scarlett shook her head, a grin on her face, but did not reply. It would only give him credits, and she preferred to leave him in the dark. So she continued.

“’You don’t want to take that way, dearie,’ The pirate said with an intolerable grin on his malevolent dark little face. Intolerable, I say. ‘It is a lady’s way, and you’re not one.’”

“’I could be,’ Solene scoffed. ‘You don’t know me and I certainly don’t want to know you.’

“’No matter, it has no interest for me anyway,’ He says. ‘I still have your stone, you know. Pretty piece. I wonder why you would give it to me, though I appreciate the gift.’

‘It was no gift!’ Solene protested. ‘And you wanted to steal from us!’

“‘It was to me.’

"‘Oh, kind sir,’ Mary intervened. ‘Would you help us? We are but poor women, and it would bring me comfort to have you protecting us on the way.”

“’You’re a good person, Miss Mary’, He said. ‘And if it was in my power to do so, I would help you. But I am not one to choose ways. I make my way.’

Rhett chuckled. “Solene was not pleased, I believe. Especially considering… her opinion on the gentleman. Was she a little jealous?”

“On the scoundrel, you mean?” Scarlett huffed, her eyes teasing. “Not even close!”

“Not even a little bit?”

“He was so conceited, why would she be jealous?

“Is she going to kiss him?”

Ella’s voice startled her, but it was the content of her question that shocked Scarlett the most. At the thought, she could not help but blush, her heart stopping a little, before her gaze settled on Rhett, whose brows had risen and gathered in a daring arch, insolent like always.

So he wanted to play like that, eh?

“Well,” Scarlett continued with a snide smile directed at her husband. “Somehow it gave an idea to Solene, for even if he was all nice and mushy with Miss Mary, he was still eyeing her quite deviously.”

“’Oh, yes, good ser,’ she said, batting her lashes. ‘Please, help us. And, as you are a man of honor, you would graciously give me back my stone and help us.’

“The scoundrel glanced at her, but grinned. ‘I have no honor, and you too have no such thing. But humor me, girl. Why would I do that?’

“’Maybe I could give you a kiss, for it.’

“And with that, the pirate’s eyes were glinting and he went closer to Solene.

“’A kiss, you say? And why would I want that?’

“”Why then would you look at me that way?’

“’Are you begging for a kiss?’

“’No, but you are,’ She said confidently.

“’I would not say no to a kiss.’

“’Well, if you are nice and say please, maybe…’

“And as he leaned in, his lips uttered the sweetest ‘please’”

“Oh, no, darling, Robert would not beg for a kiss,” Rhett chuckled, though his own eyes stayed a little too long on her lips, making her shiver with an aching anticipation and fluttering on her stomach. “In my memory, it was the contrary.”

“Oh, yes?” Scarlett smirked at Rhett, leaning in a little, though she was not really aware of that. “Do you know Robert, husband? I thought it was a fictional character, from my very own imagination.”

“Your very own imagination is quite close to the reality, my dear. And I maintain that Robert would not have said please.”

She was about to tell him that she was the one to tell the story, but she was interrupted.

“Kisses are gross,” Wade added, shaking his head in disapproval.

Her eyes, widened, then glinted a little, still daring her husband. She embraced her son, her lips puckering on his little face. “Oh, yes? Come give a kiss to Mother, sweet Wade. Come give a kiss to Mama…”

At this display of affection, the little boy was not prepared, and he felt like a doll in her arms. His eyes were wide and his cheeks with a red that looked like the clay of Tara. Why, she could have lain him there, and there would have been not difference!

“Stop it, my dear, you’re breaking the boy,” Rhett chuckled. “And it still does not settle the question. Is she going to kiss him or not?”

“Do you want her to kiss him?” Scarlett teased. “She leaned in, the pirate’s eyes soon closed as he followed her movement. Seeing him, Solene knew at the moment which way she wanted to go. Her hand on the stone that she managed to snatch away while he was distracted, she pushed him towards the crow who, angry at being disturbed, attacked him quite ferociously (“ouch,” Rhett said with an amused smile), took her friend’s hand and took the first way to escape. The weeping willow screamed at them, but she did not stop… This is it, children, time to go to bed.”

“But mama…” Ella protested. “I’m not sleepy…”

Rhett chuckled, his eyes finally leaving Scarlett. “You’re barely standing on your feet, little one. Wade, son, get your sister to bed.”

The boy nodded and did his duty, as always, with an impression of importance that amused Scarlett, but also unsettled her. He was growing up too much. Too soon, he would be a man, and there was still a lot of things she needed to mend…

She’d think of it tomorrow, she thought. Not now, with Rhett at her side, his full attention on her now, and her mind not enough alert at the moment to use any of her tricks on him without thinking of the mention of that kiss…

Not that her tricks ever worked on him anyway.

“Well, goodnight…”

“Wait, Scarlett!” Rhett stopped her as she was about to leave. His expression was casual and calculating as he looked at her. “Didn’t you say you wanted to learn poker?”

Dumbfounded, she stared at him, her neat black brows arching slightly.

“At this time of the night?”

“Well, poker is generally a nocturnal activity, my dear.”

“Among other things,” She raised an unimpressed eyebrow while he laughed lightly, looking through his vest to find a deck of cards.

Somehow, it did not surprise her he always had one in his pockets. He looked at her intently, his eyes dancing mischievously as he began his explanation.

“First of all, my pet, I need to remind you that you are very easy to read… No, no, don’t be so offended. It’s all in your eyes. When you think you’re about to win, there’s a light in them. And in that pretty dimple of yours,” He chuckled, pressing briefly a light finger on the place where it should be. “And when you don’t see your way out, your eyes are like steel, hard, but also a little venomous. Then there’s also that mouth. That mouth that easily smiles and pouts, the bottom lip that sometimes you bit between these little teeth of yours…”

“Is it an analysis of my face, dear husband?” She batted her lashes, a little vexed he saw right through her scheme. “I know it’s pretty, but certainly you need not take so much appraisal of it;”

“Vanity…” He chuckled. “To play poker, you need to be aware of your weaknesses, and how to hide them. But maybe before that I should have begun with the beginning. I don’t really much like the idea of you losing these little things, so don’t ever think I will be the one to help you get rid of them. And even then you’ll still be very readable to me, if your objective was that I would not be able to,” His eyes gleamed mockingly at her and she scowled. “Very well, honey, here’s the rules. Two cards in hand. Many poker chips. I suppose you want to keep the bargain low for the first time, my pet? I guessed so. First, seeing your cards, you have to decide if you want to enter the game and then bet some of your chips, or not. If you do, cards will be shown to you on the table. The objective is to have the better combination possible so that you win the bet. Keep in mind. The ace is better than the king, who is better than the queen and…”

“I know the value of the cards, thank you,” She interrupted him, a little annoyed. “My father taught me that. And I’m quite good at whist, if you remember.”

His teeth gleamed, sharp contrast with his dark skin. But he did not comment on that. Instead, he put the cards between them, separating it in three, then mixing it again. She rolled her eyes at his display.

“Many combinations are possible…”

There, he showed her some of them, but sadly, after some time, she found herself quite tired and unable to register what he was saying. And then there was his scent, furiously intoxicating at her nostrils, and the way he hummed as he mixed the cards.

Slowly, some cards fell from the couch and she found her gaze lingering on them.

She felt his body rumble lightly as her head fell on his shoulder and eyes began to bat unwillingly to fight the slumber.

“You’re getting sleepy, dear,” came his amused voice.

“Yes, I guess so.”

“As much as I appreciate you consider my shoulder as a good substitute for a pillow, I’m afraid you will have to go to bed.”

“I’ll do what I want, Rhett,” Scarlett chided, though it came more as a pathetic mew as her eyes could barely hold themselves open. “Especially if that bothers you.”

He chuckled.

“Oh, yes, that bothers me a great deal,” His voice was soft, almost tender in the teasing, and to her exhausted mind it felt like a challenge. “But what would be bothering me, even more, would be if you fall asleep on my knees. So I guess your head on my shoulder is fine.”

She grinned lazily, though the corner of her lips had something of a triumphant edge to it. To her pleasure, she felt him stiffen as her hand found his knee, and as she fumbled through the lap to find the softest spot to lay her head on.

Did she excite him that way? She wandered. Did he feel the rush of blood and emotion coming through his body at having her so close, touching him? She hummed pleasantly as she thought of it, her head finally finding its place and her eyes closing completely. She did not know really. The only time she actually dared to touch him in a less than proper way, everything was blurry and wild, and she was barely aware where all the pleasure came from for it seemed to be exploding in her.

For a moment, she had the satisfaction to feel that he was completely frozen under her, not daring to get her off him nor to shock her by a mocking comment concerning the limits of her attempts at seducing. Oh, she remembered the last time she had been too close in one of his visits. How he had laughed at her! How cruel he had been, telling her he had met women who had been more skillful to bring a man to bed!

The thought brought a frown on her forehead, and when it appeared, so came his fingers soothing it. This time, she was the one tensed, flabbergasted by his actions. She felt as if her skin was stung by many thin needles, each of them rubbed by his light petting, until it became a hot sensation once it reached her heart and settled uncomfortably between her thighs.

His caress was light and warm. It almost was loving, she thought. Almost. And when it came to her hair, she had to hold back a moan of pleasure, like some pleased cat on the knees of its master. At that moment, she didn’t care he had spent nights in a whorehouse. She was entirely too focused on his presence now, at her side.

That feeling was too much. Abruptly, she straightened, dusting anxiously her skirt, not even daring to look back at him as she put some distance between them. She gulped at the sudden moisty cold that came over her.

“Great balls of fire, my comfort is not that much assured in such a way!”

Her cheeks were burning and her voice a little too high.

He gave her a smirk.

“Maybe you would prefer my chest.”

She scowled. Of course, he did not feel anything! He was mocking her, like always, and she was the one getting needy about him!

“Oh, you’re insufferable when you feel sure to be…”

“Sure to be what, my dear?”

She shook her head, distressed and more than a little angry.

“Oh, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to bed, now…” Her fists clenched a little, then finally turn her head towards him, nodding abruptly. “Goodnight, my love.”

And with that, she raised up and hurried at the door, angry at herself for the weakness of her heart and body. She needed to step up her game, or else she would be the one on the losing side.

“Goodnight, my love,” He laughed softly, staring at her as she left the room, her hair disheveled as if she had just risen from the bed. His laughter grew in intensity as she waved his words off, as if saying “Oh, your words have no hold on me.”

Well, his answer was certainly a sneaky: “Oh, really?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: and thus truly begins the most frustrating dance/foreplay ever.


	15. Chapter 15

Sipping her coffee quietly, Scarlett tried deliberately not to cross her husband’s gaze, a teasing smile on her lips as she savored the bitter taste laying on her tongue. On his face was still that infuriating smirk, and it was like some kind of war of attrition, each adversary observing with amusement the other, waiting for their next move. One of them at least was ready to blow the first shot.

“It seems one of my shirts is missing. Would you know something of it?”

Scarlett’s eyes widened, remembering suddenly the cloth she had kept, which was still under her pillow. A remembrance of the night she had tried to chase him and failed. A remembrance of him, of his presence at her side.

She lowered her gaze, putting the cup back to its saucer with slightly shaking hands. Her laugh rang in the room, and she wished the children were there and not at school. It would have been easier.

“Me? Why would I know the whereabouts of your shirt?” She protested. “I’m no washerwoman!”

He chuckled. “No, you’re not, my pet. I wondered, that’s all, but now that I see that lovely blush on your cheeks, I’m even more curious.”

Then came time for the mails, a time for respite. She released a sigh.

Sunday would be Ella’s birthday. The invitations had been sent, some had been answered. So most of them were already known to her. And then, under them, was a telegram coming from Will. A strange feeling of foreboding came to her as she read. She blinked, but it wouldn't change that fact.

“My sister is coming next week. Will informs me she’s up to something. Tara…”

She stopped, then stared at him. Can I trust you? She wanted to ask.

“What about Tara?”

“I don’t know. He says people had been coming inspecting the soil and some were quite threatening…”

“You… still don’t get along with your sister, I suppose?” He did not even wait for her to reply, before shaking his head, irritated and raising from his seat. “I gather so. Well, it’s certainly quite unfortunate.”

She blinked.

“Where are you going?”

“Contrary to what you might think, I have work to do,” He snapped. His eyes were darker than ever, an irritated light barely passing it. She froze, before he shook his head, a weary expression on his face. “… Sorry, my dear, my temper got the best of me.”

_“… You think that by saying “I’m sorry”, all the errors and hurts of years past can be remedied, obliterated from the mind, all the poison drawn from old wounds…”_

No, she did not. Not anymore. It was all a circle, and it would not stop. And yet, somehow, she did not want it to stop, for at least he was here, by her side. And yet… She knew it had to stop one day. One way or another.

“Rhett…”

He sighed.

“I’ll see you at lunch break.”

“But… Ella is at school, she wouldn’t be here…”

But he was already gone.

Just like him. Leaving the scene before anything was resolved.

Quietly, she left it as well, her first act when she went to her office being to check the account and add some coins to her chest. John came to her, asking her if she had found a local to use, and she sighed, indicating the old warehouse that she had bought two years ago, but with the events occurring, never found time to properly check it. He nodded absent-mindedly, and she was tempted to snap her fingers in front of him. Funny how he seemed distracted since yesterday. But then she did not care. They would train with guns this afternoon, he had said.

Rhett was known for his skill at firing guns. She did not want to disappoint.

John told her there was a meeting tomorrow night, and she noted it. Had she any other option? She didn’t know, but a thrill came to her as she thought of leaving the house again for another thing than work.

She then wandered around the store, her eyes sometimes glancing unwillingly towards the clock.

A shadow passed the store, stopping once in front of the vitrine. But this time it wasn’t young Billy. Her heart stopped, for in front of her was the image of young Bonnie Blue Butler, looking as if she hadn’t had a good meal for days.

Scarlett needed some time before actually figuring out who it really was, the image clinging painfully in her mind.

She took refuge once again in her office, this time with much darker thoughts, until Hugh finally came to see her.

“There’s a mister for you, Ma’am. Said he needed your advice.”

Her green eyes glared, irritated as she was.

“Couldn't you give it to him?”

He shrugged, and somehow in this light, he seemed old, oh so very old.

“He’s been asking you, saying it had something to do with the auction.”

So soon? It seemed the news went quickly.

“I see,” She blinked. “I’ll talk to him, then.”

But this customer was not just anyone.

It was Todd Smith. With brand new clothes, and the air of a mealy-mouth ninny about him. But she knew better and her steps were quick as she came to him.

How dared he sought her out at her store?

“I’ll be there, if that’s why you came,” She whispered furiously. “But this is not the place, nor the moment.”

He blinked.

“Why… Oh, yes. That’s why.”

She released a heavy breath, irritated. Then, loudly, she exclaimed: “Oh, so you want to see the lamp posts?”

“The lamp posts?”

“No one goes there," She mumbled.

“Oh,” Then, louder. “Oh, yes, the lamp posts!”

She shook her head and almost stomped her foot. This man was certainly not discreet. She looked at Hugh, but if he had a suspicion, it seemed to disappear. She did not ponder over it; But if she had, she would have realized that her behavior clearly indicated murder, and not the luring of a lover.

Though said wannabe-lover didn’t seem to be aware of it as she gestured him to follow her.

“My brother-in-law sent me a letter telling me my sister wanted to come to Atlanta. Do you know something about it?”

“It is said she’s been approached by men who’d want her share in Tara.”

She froze.

“No. No, she wouldn’t.”

“Mrs…”

“She’s my family!” She protested. “We’ve always been at odds, always fought over everything. But Tara… Tara is our home. Why would she do that?”

“I cannot answer for your sister. All I can say is that my admiration is growing more and more each day.”

“Oh, fiddle-dee-dee!”

Was it really the time?

… But then, maybe his current mood could help her unveiling something she had not dare yet asking. Something that was near her, and perhaps easier to handle for at the precise moment.

Her eyes gleamed lightly, until she batted her lashes and stared at him with an innocent gaze.

“May I ask something of you?”

“Anything.”

“Do you remember the night you helped me out of… that house? Do you remember the little girl we met? What she said. Could you tell me what it meant?”

He stiffened, ill-at-ease.

“I’m not sure if I can tell you.”

Men loved to think they could rescue women. They loved the idea of a woman in need, with love and devotion in her eyes, and pity for the weak. That, she had known it since girlhood. If to get her answers, she would need to play that role, she would.

She put her hand on her heart, her eyes almost bright with tears.

“I need some honesty in my life, Mister Smith. I’ve lived too long in lies that it became my prison… Would you free me of it?”

There, his eyes brightened like a torch. She had presented him as a savior, and she as the maiden in distress. And from the air he had, he must love that role.

“With pleasure, my lady,” She shuddered at the title, but it came more as a shiver of pleasure to an outsider as she cast her eyes down, a becoming blush on her cheek. “But… I have to warn you. This tale might offend your sensitivity.”

She was tempted to huff at this, but then it would have ruined all her act. Instead, she raised softly her eyes at him in a pleading glance and gestured him to go on.

He released a tortured breath of air, as if it took all in him to tell her what she wanted.

“It’s something that can happen when an orphanage runs out of money to guard the children they take in, and a sporting house is near enough and prospering. Some of them are selected when nobody can adopt them and if they fit.”

“If they… fit?” She gasped. “So you mean to tell me…”

“They took some in, calling it an apprenticeship, and gave money to the tenants of the orphanage. It’s a win-win for both. The orphanage gets money to sustain. The sporting house gets new faces for its… customers.”

_“Would you want me to… to…”_

The more she thought of it, the more the image of the girl blurred until it fit perfectly Bonnie, then Ella. She gripped the counter for support, but it did not erase that sick feeling on her stomach.

“You’re pale. Oh, I shouldn’t have…”

“No!” She exclaimed. “No. I’m glad you did. You’ve been more honest to me than anyone I’ve met.”

That was a lie, but he needed not to know it. Melly had been the more honest person she had met, and it was an insult to pretend otherwise. Yet, Melly did not know everything, and had she been there, she would have fainted on the spot.

She had decided she would do something. But an auction might not be enough. She needed to find something else.

“Mister,” She said. “I am but a woman, and with a reputation and children to protect. I wish I could…”

“It is all in your honor…” He said eagerly.

She was tempted to roll her eyes at this. Rage came to her as she thought of why she had been at the sporting house in the first place. Rhett, always Rhett. Certainly, he must have known that. But then, why would he still defend his lover? Did he not care, like when he protested about Johnnie Gallagher? At least, the convicts had been judged guilty, thus their punishment. Living as she had, why would she care when one of them could have been the Yankee who attacked her, her house and people?

Belle Watling, a good woman? A good mother? Ha! What a joke, she thought.

Oh, she would ruin her. She would ruin them both.

Todd Smith almost retreated when he saw the dangerous glint in her eyes, but she knew better than that. She had lived with Rhett, after all. She had affected she did not care for a long time and he had believed her. He had believed her, she realized, because he wanted to believe it.

This one wanted to believe she was good. She regained her composure.

“But there must be something to do…” She said with a pleading voice. “Certainly... What would you say if I ask you to spy on them for me? If we bring it to the law…”

His eyes lightened, and there she knew that, even if he failed, he would try. His eyes had the same glint of her former eager beaux, and generally, she hadn’t been disappointed by them.

“Mrs. Butler. I’m still and always, your Lancelot.”

When he kissed her knuckles, it took all of her strength not to lash out, quickly retreating for property instead.

She huffed, stomped her feet for real, then made a great show at grumbling in front of Hugh about how she had failed to sell her lamp posts.

It felt like a relief when finally Rhett came, and even with what she knew now, he always had this strange power about him, to make her feel like she was safe.

An illusion, maybe. But at least it worked. For a moment. She let herself be guided as he led her to the buggy, then settled her on the blanket. He frowned as she picked at her food, but it was only when she finished he finally said something.

“You’re pale. And quiet.”

“I have nothing to say.”

_Or too many. And yet, by where should I begin, my love?_

She looked around her, her mouth down as a hint of sadness gripped her heart. She felt tired, and the image of the little girl wouldn’t leave her.

“There was an orphan girl near the store.”

“Every child is attracted to abundance and all things shiny.”

His tone was nonchalant as always, but his gaze strangely piercing.

“At least it’s not a sporting house.”

“A sporting house?” He examined her attentively. “Why the mention, my dear?”

She bit her lip. Why did she have to bring it up?

“Oh, I don’t know. I said sporting house like I would have said… lightning house. Or whatever.”

“Really?”

“Are you doubting me?”

He let out a short laugh.

“Absolutely. But I was waiting to see when the lie would stop.”

“Now, I guess,” She sighed, before narrowing her eyes. “Do you know anything about it?”

“Do you?”

“I have… suspicions.”

She saw his finger tap lightly on his knee, and he seemed to hesitate about what he was going to say.

At this, she remembered the night he left. This time he had said the truth. Now, would he lie?

“It was a good idea, to use the orphanage as a good deed to reenter society, I’ll grant you that. But don’t go too far in your suspicions. You might not be ready for the answers.”

Am I not? She arched her eyebrow, vexed. His eyes narrowed, his voice toning dangerously.

“I’m serious, Scarlett. Don’t go in there. I see you are quite offended, so I tell you this once more. Do not do anything reckless.”

“Oh, because you never did anything reckless yourself?”

He sighed.

“So that’s what it is. You may think it is another adventure, but it is not, Scarlett. Do whatever else you want, but this one is not for you.”

She wanted to retort but his gaze was not on her anymore. He was frowning in the distance and she saw that for him the subject was closed. Instead, he was picking at grass, his dark eyes wandering frustratingly over each strand, some being plucked out by his swift fingers, until finally they stopped, finding a white clover among it. He looked at it thoughtfully, an almost amused smile on his lips.

“Do you know what white clovers mean, dear?”

She froze. Then, shakily, she nodded.

Pa had told her what the white clover meant, and it seemed fitting. Revenge. wrath. He once had told her about one of his little petty wars against some neighbors, and how he would declare it "chivalrously "by sending them said flowers. Though Scarlett doubted said enemies really understood the meaning of it.

She raised her eyes towards him, feeling so exposed. Did he know about her? Or was it a way to tell he was attempting his own revenge on her?

Softly, he took a pin from her hair and used it to fix the flower on her cloth. A brooch weighing her down, though it seemed it would softly slide on the cloth.

How could eyes so soft now mean that much?

“I don’t think you do,” He said. “But still, it served its purpose.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it.

With her eyes, she defied him. No, she would not be vanquished. She would not let him win this war they had created. Not again.

“I didn’t know silly flowers counted so much for you. That’s… surprisingly sentimental of you.”

He chuckled. “Perhaps. I surprise myself sometimes, pet.”

One raven strand had escaped her bun where he had taken the pin, tickling her temple and laying lazily on her breast. He took it between his fingers and curled it absent-mindedly, the tip of it grazing her cheek like tiny sparks of fire. Her head tilted unexpectedly at such a gesture. She closed her eyes, her senses intoxicated in so many ways. His light touch, his scent, wild and masculine, and the sound of his breathing, barely noticeable like a predator holding its breath before bouncing on its prey. And like always, she failed to know if she wanted to escape him or let herself be caught.

Looking at him, she wanted to forget it all, his lies, her lies, his threats and hers, and to feel like a young girl again, carefree, wanting to love and be loved.

He smiled and leaned in, and she knew then that he was about to kiss her. Her heart was beating as she was almost tempted to let him.

Almost.

“I bet I can surprise you even more by being the first on the buggy.”

Exhilarated, she jumped on her feet and ran, her laugher taunting him. She did not look to see his reaction, but soon enough he was joining her.

She knew she would be caught at one moment. But still, she continued, until finally he did catch her and put her on his shoulder, before setting her on the buggy.

They stared at each other a moment, ragged breaths and stinging feet as he joined her. His eyes were gleaming and daring, but she wouldn’t until he did.

“Scarlett…” He said, almost breathless.

He cleared his throat and the moment was gone. He had to go to the bank, he told her. She almost was disappointed. Almost. He asked her where she wanted to go and led her to the warehouse, his expression as bland as it had been open just minutes before.

John was waiting for her inside and they began to train.

Three hours later, she was weary, and the palm of her hand stang. She thought it had bled once, but she didn’t care. At least, she had shot right, and she was improving.

She went home and past the nursery, decided to go to bed. But then, the voices coming from it drew her in, and she could not help but eavesdrop.

There were Pansy mending clothes on the rocking chair and the children. Prissy was nowhere in sight, and Ella was playing with her doll while Wade was reading a book. Scarlett felt a little pang of betrayal at the idea he would not wait for her, but then a more rational side of her remembered she had not found the time yet to read with him.

“Pansy,” Ella asked innocently. “Why is your skin dark?”

The rocking chair stilled.

“’cause God tought it suited me and I was more biotiful wit it.”

“Oh? There’s Hatty that told me it’s because He wanted to show the difference between civilized persons and uncivilized.”

“Ella!” Wade exclaimed. You shouldn’t talk of such things!”

Pansy paused, before her voice came out, a little weaker than before. The accent she took had a strain in it.

“Nah, Mistah Wade, don’t.” She turned towards Ella. “’”nd you, what you tink, little one?”

“I don’t know what civilized mean. But I like you. You’re good to us, and you understand us.”

“Den it’s all tat matter, chile. Now come be a good chile and rest a lil’.”

She waited a few minutes, and it seemed Ella had obeyed, for she was not heard after.

Ella had always been a heavy sleeper.

Instead came the voice of Wade, soft and remorseful.

“You have to excuse my sister. She didn’t know these questions were inappropriate.”

Her tone was weary as she replied.

“There was no malice in her question, and I didn’t mind answering it.”

From the door, she could see Wade had stiffened.

“You…”

“You’re an intelligent boy, Mister Wade. That’s why I know you can keep it to yourself. It seems I’m tired of hiding what I am that even a child can see it.”

The last part was barely a whisper, a grumble, but Scarlett heard it all the same, and somehow, it resonated with something in her that made her feel compassionate about such a situation.

Wade nodded.

“Does… does Mother know? That you talk like that?”

“She does. You don’t have to keep that secret from her, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He seemed more relaxed as she said it. But then his head raised towards his former mammy questioningly.

“Then why?”

Pansy sighed. “You’ll see when you’re grown up. Sometimes people need to hide behind what is expected of them, they hide, wearing masks so others cannot know what they want and what they are. They hide so nobody can hurt them."

“I don’t really understand.”

“You will in time,” She shook her head, as if berating herself. “Or maybe you won’t. Maybe it’d be better for you if you don’t.”

There was a pause before finally, Wade decided to reply.

“I miss you being in charge of the nursery.”

“And I miss it too. But that’s what you asked, isn’t it? Because you were worried about your mother and wanted someone at her side? And besides, I like my place now. Your mother is… an interesting woman and I get on well with her.”

Scarlett felt a squeeze on her heart at this, the tears almost coming from the amount of love she felt. For she knew at that moment at least she could count on them. They were a family and despite all odds they cared. For Wade to ask such a thing just because he was worried… Oh, she wanted to enter the nursery and embrace him.

It also revealed in Pansy a loyalty that knew no bounds, even if it was mostly to her children. If Scarlett was a little vexed by the fact it wasn’t to her alone, soon enough it was appeased by the way she talked to Wade. But still, she was aware that the person she had been would not have been contented with that, and somehow it filled her with satisfaction as well. She had changed, despite what Rhett said. And she could do so.

Pansy had a sharp mind. That, she had been learning to see it since these few days (or was it weeks?) she had tried to be more aware of what was going on around her. She felt surprisingly glad to have her on her side; Allies were so hard to find, these days, and she was a reminder of Tara and everything that was at stake.

Oh, if only she could find a way to see what Rhett was truly preparing! If only somehow she’d find an explanation that would tell her he wasn’t working against her! That his gentleness was genuine, and not a way to coax her to do something!

But then, with what she knew, it felt more like wishful thinking.

Quietly, she pushed the door and wandered in the corridors, feeling burdened and weary.

She needed to get her mind out of it. At all cost. But how? She couldn’t go back to the store. Couldn’t go to the saloon without it raising some questions at her unexpected visits.

Unexpectedly, her feet dragged her to the library, and she remembered her last visit to the room.

She knew she had always been tempted by what was forbidden. She was no angel, and the taste of transgression was sweet, especially when it was Rhett who advised against doing so.

She caressed the leather-bound cover, thrilled with the deep inscriptions.

"The Arabian Nights". How exotic.

This was a book. Certainly, nothing could go wrong with a book. Time after time, she had found herself reading with Wade, she had heard others read to her, and during her education at Fayetteville, it had bored her to death.

But now it did not seem there was nothing else to do.

So she began to read, settling herself askew on the chair. And astonishingly, a page was turned, then another. Then another. Then another. Then…

“Oh, I see you could not resist.”

She jumped, almost letting her book fall with what would have been a terrible crash. She scowled, though did not dare to move. She frowned. Oh, no, she would not give him the pleasure to know just by his presence, she was distraught.

“God’s nightgown, Rhett! Stop sneaking up on me like a cat! One day my heart will not handle it!”

“Oh, is it beating like that of a rabbit?” He teased, his fingers grazing her shoulders in a light massage. His hands gathered, and then settled comfortably at each side, while she could feel his head leaning above, though not enough to touch it. “No, I guess for that I would have to be a little closer… maybe like that. Or like that.”

The more he talked, the more she could feel his hot breath on her, first on the back of her neck, then at the side and the cheek.

She shivered.

“You’re insufferable.”

He chuckled. “So, what do you think?”

“Of the book?” She took a breath in and out, trying to compose herself. “Totally scandalous. Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett! Why would anyone talk about such things?! Orgies, incests, violences…”

“And yet you’re still reading.”

“The stories are interesting!” She protested, her head turning to his, before she realized with distress he was so close her lips had grazed his cheek while she did so. Abruptly, she turned back to the book, her fingers tapping nervously on the pages. “There are not always murders, infidelities, and… debauchery.”

“You mean sexuality.”

She stiffened, heat blossoming on her chest, rising towards her cheeks uncomfortably. She felt the goosebumps on her tender flesh and bit back a moan at the seducing tone of his drawling voice.

“I know another that might interest you,” He continued, stepping back a little, which was even worse for her senses. “Though it has more images.”

She shook her head, struggling to control her breathing as her chest heaved up and down too quickly for her sake.

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett! I’m not a child. I can read."

“Oh, believe me, my dear, it is not a book for children. But for your newfound interest in Orient and scandalous activities, you might find it very… enlightening. And I’m sure it would take your breath away. Even more than now.”

She leaned on the chair, her eyes almost closing as she felt his fingers graze the skin of her neck, making their path from the back to the first roots of hair he could reach. Slowly, he began to take off the pins in her hair, one by one, each of them falling on the floor with a light click. Little by little, her long hair was tumbling like a cape over the handle of the chair. She felt a soft pressure on her head, like a soft kiss or maybe a nuzzle of his nose.

Oh, please stop, she wanted to beg. Please don’t.

She bit her lip, afraid of letting herself go.

She had to say something. Anything.

“Schariar makes me think of you.”

“Oh?” He stopped, before drawing light circles over her shoulders. “Because he’s well educated, adventurous, rich and powerful?”

She hummed.

“He’s intolerably selfish,” She replied nonchalantly, looking at him askance with a smirk. “Cruel. And a little hypocrite. And I wonder why you’re vexed someone could choose you for money when you bring it up all the time. Are you that unsure of yourself?”

“I’m sure nobody has ever accused me of being unsure.”

“You’re a cad.”

He laughed.

“Well, that’s more like it.”

“Of course you’re not upset over me calling you that,” she sighed, tightening her grip on the book.

“Well, I did tell you once you could never hurt me with the truth. And that doesn’t stop you from loving me, pet, as… you once said. Instead, you like it. Though hypocrisy? I don’t think it equals yours.”

Her heart thumped lightly at this. Oh, how could he say she loved him so casually? Why did it seem so easy to him and so… unimportant?

“Said the man who always encouraged me not to care about losing my reputation and then went on and on about how foolish I was to lose it.”

“… I guess I was.”

“And you’re not sorry.”

“I think we can both agree that people are allowed to change their minds, aren’t they, my dear? I was a bachelor then, and I felt like I had no roots and did not belong anywhere as well.”

“And do you, now? Feel like you belong somewhere?”

Her voice was hesitating, and she avoided his gaze.

“Well, my leaving certainly proved to me I did.”

“I’m… happy for you then.”

“No, you’re not.”

Say it, his eyes dared it. Say it now.

She fidgeted, her hand shakily turning the page.

“Your hand…” He said suddenly. “What happened to it?”

“Oh, I… just a little incident at the warehouse, that’s all. I fell.”

“A little incident? By God, Scarlett, it must have bled.”

Swiftly, he had taken her hand in his, examining it carefully.

She laughed. He stared at her, frowning.

“My, Rhett, why such a fuss! It is only a scratch!”

He scowled.

“A scratch?

“No more than what I already had.”

He shook his head, then the laugh finally raised from him, beginning by a wide opening of the mouth to a deep rumble of his chest.

“You are an infuriating woman.”

“And you’re as changing as the wind. Why, I did not think you would care that much.”

Lightly, her hand had slipped from his and reached his cheek, and she realized with surprise she was caressing it.

How many feelings had been in her eyes for him to see, for him to mock?

She retreated, but he caught it.

“You still need to put something on it, pet.”

His voice was hoarse, as if he was trying to control himself. But control himself from doing what? That’s what she didn’t know.

“Oh, do I?”

She looked into his eyes, questioning.

But he didn’t seem to want to give her an answer, for he left her silently, shaking his head with an infuriating smile and light steps on the parquet. She blinked, then shrugged. But the smile was still on her lips as she closed the book and joined them for dinner.

Then came the time for storytelling, and it somehow appeased her, setting her in a comfortable zone she didn’t know she, they could create. And yet, they had.

She would not think of anything else. Not now. This was their moment, and she needed to enjoy it as long as they lasted.

“The willow tree screamed when Solene and Mary took its way and ran. And the way seemed to welcome them, smooth and pleasant under their feet.”

“So, that means they were worthy, right?” Wade asked.

Scarlett smiled. “It seemed so. No monster out there, nothing to lure them out of the way. It felt… good. Like running in the sand. Playing cat and mouse. They had escaped danger, and somehow no matter what awaited them at the end, they were happy on their way.”

“It is the journey that matters, not the destination,” Rhett added softly.

“Now, who are you quoting now, husband dear?” Scarlett drawled, trying to imitate his accent.

He chuckled. “No one. At least I do believe so.”

“Not some illustrious strangers? Like perhaps Cheesepeare?”

“That’s Shakespeare, my charming ignoramus.”

“Well, I’m disappointed.”

“Oh, Scarlett, one day I will declaim some to you and I believe you won’t be.”

“And where is Robert, mama?”

They blinked, then both turned back to the children.

“Yes, you’re right, Ella,” Rhett mused, a smirk on his face. “Where is Robert?”

“Still fighting with the crow,” Scarlett scoffed, crossing her arms. ”The girls had much more interesting things to do than wait and see what was happening to him. Their steps had slowed, but their mood was still high, and they began to talk about everything they saw. About the adventures they had until then. About that tree over that, that thankfully didn’t talk -no, don’t even try, Rhett- and about… about… well, that bush over there, that seemed to move a lot…”

“Is Robert going from that bush?”

She snorted, the image of Rhett lurching in a bush suddenly very funny to her.

“No.”

“Is there anything coming from that bush?”

“Wade! No. In fact, it was just a rabbit.”

“Oh, I love rabbits!” Ella exclaimed. “They are adorable.”

Scarlett laughed softly, absent-mindedly caressing her daughter’s hair.

“Yes, they are, my sweet Ella. But they had to let it go, for their journey might be long and they didn’t know if they could eat.”

Rhett snorted. “I’m sure Solene wanted to eat the rabbit.”

Scarlett smirked. “But Mary didn’t, so they let it go. With regrets. But finally they came to a stop, for the way seemed to end at a lake. At least, that’s what they thought, but then it glinted on the other side and they realized they had to go on, whether by rounding it or by crossing it. They found a bark and took it, deciding that finally, this little trip wasn’t so unpleasant, they might reach the other side faster by it. Still, Solene had the impression of being followed….”

“Oh, who’s following her?”

“It’s Robert, I know!” Ella exclaimed.

“Oh, but why would Robert follow them?” Rhett intervened with a teasing smile.

“Because it’s true love, of course!”

Scarlett froze.

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Wade! Ella! Stop talking nonsense!”

Ella lowered her head, her lips pouting. “Sorry, mama…”

Scarlett huffed, before shaking her head, her heart beating quicker than she wanted.

“It’s fine,” She cleared her throat, softening as she crossed their eyes. “See, children, romantic love doesn’t come easy. It takes time, and patience, and sometimes it isn’t found at all. Sometimes, it isn’t seen…”

“What do you mean,” Wade asked, confused. “It isn’t seen?”

Her voice cracked.

“Sometimes someone is not ready for it, or doesn’t want to see it. And sometimes it is too late…”

She looked at them, and then, suddenly, she wanted to end this masquerade, to explain it to them, that Rhett would go, that it was her fault, and that she loved them…

“So Robert is going to leave and Solene is going to mope on her own,” Her husband’s voice cut her. “That’s your ending?”

Her eyes flared.

No, it wasn’t the ending. But in a second of weakness, she was tempted to say yes.

The game. It was still the game, for him.

She did not wonder why he hadn’t given her any idea about the ending during the last day, nor why he did it now. Somehow, the challenge she saw in his eyes gave her strength again and she raised her chin.

“No,” She said firmly, her eyes daring him to contradict her. “And yet, you were right, children. He was following her. And he waited for the right moment to come and surprise them. They were there, resting on their bark at nightfall,and suddenly, he was there, accosting their boat, saying..."

“Oh, darling, do you think it would be that easy, to get rid of me?” Answered the drawling voice of her husband instead.

She blinked, then scowled. He was mocking her. Once again.

“You see, Robert is not a nice gentleman. He’s a pirate. And pirates sometimes like to scare for fun. And scare he did. Mary fell into the lake, so surprised she was by the way he accosted their boat.”

“That’s not really nice,” Ella pouted.

“Oh, but I’m sure Robert was sorry for Mary,” Wade commented, a bit worried. “Mary is going to get out of the water, isn’t she, Mother?”

She smiled softly.

“Of course, Wade.”

“But then, what happened?”

“Solene, furious, hit the pirate with her paddle and he fell,” She said it as if it was the pleasantest thing in the world, and Rhett dared to chuckle. “She then rescued her friend and they continued their way."

“So violent,” Rhett shook his head. “Well, it’s not fitting. It wouldn’t happen to Robert.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? So then enlighten me, master of stories! What would Robert do in such a case?”

He smirked. “Why, Mary fell from the boat, but somehow, Solene got caught in it too. So Robert, for all his bravery, saved the lady and watched as her friend tried to join them. But each time she would get closer, he would just move the boat more, just so he could tease her more. Because, after all, angry Solene is a very amusing Solene, who shoots and curses like a sailor.”

Wade exploded in laughter.

“Oooh, I like this version better.”

“Fiddle-dee-dee!” Scarlett scoffed. “Robert the pirate is not the hero in that story!”

“Oh, mama, why not?” Ella intervened. “Why couldn’t he be the hero with Solene?”

Rhett answered instead.

“Because, my dear Ella, I doubt Solene would like not being the center of attention.”

“Oh, yes, she would!” Scarlett exclaimed, offended. She pouted, her arms crossing under her chest. “But then, Robert is not one to share.”

“He could. For the right reasons.”

“Which are?”

“True love?” Ella intervened eagerly.

“Justice and honor?” Wade added, admiration in his soft brown eyes.

“I dare say it would be for the highest interests. His,” Scarlett commented. “Robert is no gentleman, but a pirate.”

Rhett laughed. “You’re right, my dear. Though that does not say what his highest interests, as you call them, are.”

“I’m sure it depends on the situation. But then, I believe we got a little side-tracked. So which version do you prefer, children? The one where Solene has to rescue Mary and let Robert to drown or…” She stopped, disturbed by Rhett’s funny faces who clearly intended to influence her son and daughter. She scolded. “Stop that, you varmint! Or… where was it going?”

“Robert rescuing Mary, and waiting for Solene to prove how strong and persistent she is by reaching the border by herself.”

“That while laughing maliciously about it! Waiting for her to prove herself! How you do run on!”

“Well, the spectacle of a wet kitten is always an amusing one. And certainly better than letting someone drown.”

“How so? In both cases, they get wet!”

“But in the first case, one of them clearly intended for the other to be left to die."

“Fiddle-dee-dee! Robert is a pirate. Which pirate does not know how to swim?”

His white teeth shined in sharp contrast against his swarthy skin, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, so then she trusts him to survive. In both cases, they are quite similar.”

“… Maybe,” She admitted, before shaking her head and turning toward the children, ignoring the grin on Rhett’s face. “But then, it’s not the subject of the story! Come on, my darlings, tell me. Which one do you prefer?”

“How about Mary falls in the river and Robert and Solene both work together to get her out of the water?” Ella said with a shy smile.

“Oh, yes, that’s so much better!” Wade exclaimed. “I’m sure they work well together!”

Rhett grinned, waggling his eyebrows at their mother while Scarlett gritted her teeth, a bit disappointed over not being chosen. But then, as she saw the expression on her children’s faces, she relaxed. Of course. They would want them to work together. They were so innocent and forgiving!

“Alright, children, I believe it’s time for you to go to bed. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the circus.”

Scarlett turned her head, surprised. “The circus?”

But it was already silenced by Wade and Ella’s eager cheers.

“A circus?”

“Will there be bears?”

“And elephants?”

Rhett laughed. “All of that and more. It settled in Marietta this afternoon. We’ll go tomorrow morning. And I’m sure your mother would like to see if she is fiercer than the tigresses.”

Offended, Scarlett stuck her tongue out to him, and he laughed even more, especially when Ella exclaimed that yes, her mother was fiercer than tigresses.

She frowned, asking herself at which time they would come home.

But then, looking at her children, looking at Rhett, she wondered. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they did not come home in time.

Wade was the first to notice her gaze.

“Are you upset, Mother? That I ask too many questions and talk too much?”

She stiffened. Then released a sigh.

“My, Wade, you’re such a clever little boy,” She replied, surprisingly moved by the devotion in his eyes. “I’m… proud of you. So proud.” She kissed his forehead and caressed his cheek, wondering how he could have grown so without her noticing. “Go to bed, sweet-heart. Tomorrow will be a long day.”

He nodded, and she looked at him as he led his sister out of the room. She hummed, pleased, before remembering the scoundrel at her side, that was still looking at her like a cat having eaten a canary. And that had already settled the cards and chips between them.

She huffed.

“Why, my dear. Aren’t I a clever little boy?” Rhett jeered lightly, in such a way she was tempted to laugh. “Well, man will be more accurate, and I’m sure you would agree I’m far from little.”

She smirked, taking her cards and looking at it.

“You’re a varmint.”

“You like it.”

“You always seem so sure about what I like and what I don’t like.”

“I know you, pet. All these years loving you, that certainly leaves a mark.”

She startled, her eyes raising in question as her cards almost fell from her shaking hands.

“You’re too impatient,” He berated with an amused smile. “Do not reveal your cards too soon, you need to distract your opponent.”

“Oh, so am I your opponent now?”

“What would you rather be?”

“You know what I’d rather be,” Her voice was husky, with a tone that surprised her by its need. His hand stilled over the cards between them, as he revealed three of them. “But if I have to be your opponent… why not?”

“We’ll see,” His eyes defied her, dark and deep, like the well she almost fell in when she was a child. She remembered the shiver as the wind blew on her face, and the heady and dangerous feeling rushing through her veins when her hands slipped. “Focus, my dear. You’re too easily distracted.”

Don’t play with me, she wanted to say. Don’t make me believe something that is not true.

“Oh, am I?”

“There’s something on your mind, pet, and it’s not the game. Say it.”

She could have asked what he was doing, and for what. She could have questioned his feelings about her, however, they were (though she had little doubt about it). She would have wanted him to reveal why he did not want her to know what was happening to the orphanage.

But that would have been useless.

Instead, her mind stayed in the game and she asked.

“Who is Lancelot?”

The only thing that could show he was surprised was a blink of the eyes. Otherwise, his expression remained cool and bland, and it felt like she had talked about the weather. Yet, somehow, Scarlett felt a tension in the air.

“And who, pray tell, told you of such a character?” He drawled. “Is it Ashley?”

“No.”

“Oh, some new conquest, then.”

“Do you care?”

“Should I?” He smirked. “Are you trying to make me jealous, my dear?”

“Why? Would it work?”

“Has it ever worked?... What is your move, dear?”

“You’re insufferable,” She huffed. “Stop replying to my questions with others.”

“Pay attention. If you don’t, you might miss opportunities. You need not only to look at your cards, but also your opponent. Look at signs, see how many times they’re shown to you, read them. And if you see them staring back at you and you can’t hide, distract them. I know at least you can… do that.”

She looked at her cards, frowning, but his gaze on her was too intense for her to focus. And she was all too aware that if she wanted to have a chance, she needed to find a way to divert his attention.

She cleared her throat.

“So… who is Lancelot?”

He sighed, irritated, his finger tapping the cards impatiently. “Lancelot was the lover of Queen Guinevere, wife of King Arthur. It’s an old legend that French and English people like to fight over. I think you should stay on the Arabian Nights. You’d be disappointed and bored by the Arthurian romances.”

“Oh, really? Now you make me curious. There must certainly be something interesting in it. Especially if there are fights over it.”

“Not literal fights, pet. It’s not that good of a story. They both died in the end.”

“Oh, really? Killed by the husband, perhaps? Well, in that case, the Arabian Nights aren’t that much better,” She paused, staring at him. “Beware, Rhett Butler, your mask might be cracking.”

“Really?” He mused, one corner of his mouth down. “Then, tell me, what do you see, my darling?”

She observed him, these eyes that invited her now to read them, the cutting masculine jaw and these lips under a neatly clipped mustache. She saw the glint of his white teeth, waiting to be shown for a winning grin.

It couldn’t be. Not with what she knew, now.

“Another mask. I pass.”

What do you truly want, my love? She wanted to ask. What do you intend to do?

He shook his head, a corner of his mouth down. His black orbs were gleaming as he took back the cards and mixed it.

“Tell me, do these marvelous eyes that had long been on my mind see anything?”

She glowered and took her cards.

“I’m not blind.”

“You’d have me fooled.”

“Well, then, if that’s your opinion, it’s a wonder to me why you accepted to teach me that game!”

“You know why. Deep inside, you know. But why you don’t reach it, that’s still unfathomable for me.”

“And how can I know that?”

And why would you want me to know that? Since when?

Instead, she asked. She tilted her head and widened her eyes.

“Well, maybe I’d need glasses, though I doubt these eyes would be as marvelous as you say with it,” She said coquettishly as Rhett laughed loudly. “And you, can you really say you see everything?”

He paused, looking deeply into her eyes and she had the impression that he could reach her soul, her treacherous little soul as he once called it. Yet, she did not lower her gaze. May he see, she thought with a thrill. May he try to stop her.

“I see a woman full of charms who’s hiding something, and who’s afraid of getting caught. But who also wants to get caught. Don’t worry, my dear, you’ll be caught soon enough. You’ve never known how to hide secrets for a long time. Your eyes, these eyes that could cause a fire someday, will reveal it to me in time.”

She felt a chill at these words, and she felt the heat of his gaze on her, unbearable with its scrutiny. A sense of foreboding came to her, and she tried to get rid of it like she would have a mosquito. But this one mosquito would not leave her alone.

“You’re not making sense.”

“Or maybe a little too much.”

She did not answer. And how could she?

“You’re playing dirty.”

“I never said there were rules.”

“My, and I thought I had a husband who preferred to win fair and square.”

“A victory is a victory,” He shrugged. “I’d be a fool if I don’t take it when it’s presented. Fold, Scarlett.”

“I thought you told me not to reveal my cards too soon.”

“Damn what I’ve said.”

“Now, who’s impatient?” Her brow drew higher. “I raise.”

“You’re bluffing,” He said after a moment. “I raise. Now, you can show it to me.”

“Without you showing yours to me?”

“Show me yours and maybe I’ll show you mine.”

Before she could even consider the word “maybe” and what it implied, she found she was already putting her cards between them for all to see. He looked at it in what seemed a pleased disbelief and shook his head. But that’s when he finally showed his she allowed herself to realize.

She had the best combination.

She felt the blood coming at her cheeks as the excitation of her first win took her unexpectedly. Her eyes gleamed as he pushed the chips towards her, the tip of his finger grazing her skirt.

“You’re learning.”

“With a lot of your help, unfortunately. But didn’t you say a victory is a victory?” She leaned towards him, a mutinous smile on her lips. “Focus, my love. It seems I’m not the only one who’s easily distracted.”

He chuckled. “I forgot you could play dirty as well. Damn on me. It seems my words are fated to come distorted through your pretty mouth to bite me sooner or later, aren’t they, my pet?”

“You should consider more closely what you say, then. One could be easily misled.”

She had nonetheless the feeling he had let her win. She never had won against him. But then, why would he do so?

Was it a way to distract her? So that she relaxed and forgot there were greater things at stake, so he could snatch it all?

That was such a thing for him to do. And yet, now that she looked at him, she could not help but see he seemed surprised.

He leaned back, his arm lazy on the couch, his fingers almost reaching her shoulder in a possessive way.

“Maybe,” He said cautiously. “But then what would you want me to say?”

“Does it bother you?”

“Far from it,” He chuckled. “It makes the game more interesting. Just like you can be easily bored, I too need my dose of… let’s say, stimulation. So, what’s your reward?”

She blinked.

“My reward?”

“You won. What do you want?”

You know what I want, she thought. But you won’t give it to me. And I don’t want to give back without any guarantee on your part. I won’t risk it without it, just like I know you wouldn’t.

What a terrible couple we are, she thought with agony.

“The truth.”

He blinked. The corner of his lips lowered but stayed tense.

“You’d have to be more precise, dear. What truth do you want to hear from me?”

That was now or never. She needed to choose her words well.

Not the most revealing of questions. But something that could be a beginning.

“Would you tell it to me? If you knew something was going to happen to me, the children or… Tara? Would you tell it to me now?”

He leaned back a little, his expression bland. His fingers were tapping the fabric of the couch.

“… I’d tell it to you. You know I would. In time.”

Liar. In time, yes. In time was just other words to say never, too late.

She bit her bottom lip.

“Scarlett?”

She had to think of another thing to distract her. To distract him. Anything.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” She mused. “For all this talk about which story is better, this Schariar is terrible. I know you will laugh at me. But wasn’t it a… thing for husbands at that time to have multiple wives? Then how is it so intolerable in such a society for a woman to take a lover when her man accepts other persons in their bed? It is only fair, after all…”

“I’m not sure you’d like my opinion on the subject, pet.”

“Of course, I won’t. And maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

He paused, staring at her with disbelief.

“I really hurt you, didn’t I?”

“That’s what you wanted.”

“I can’t say it wasn’t.”

“You thought me heartless at the time.”

“No. Not heartless. At least heartless for me,” His fingers now were grazing her shoulder, drawing light circles on the fabric while his eyes kept her captivated. “I wanted you to feel for me, just like I felt for you and Ashley.”

“We really did hurt one another very much, didn’t we?”

She offered him a pained smile.

“We did and we will certainly in the future,” He sighed, before sending her a sardonic smirk. “People with… err… joie de vivre like us tend to hurt each other like that, whether they love or not. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be… friends.”

Her eyes flashed emerald. She recoiled.

“You never had any friend that you couldn’t use sooner or later.”

“We are all used by someone or use people sooner or later, whether we want to admit it or not. You use me, I use you. That doesn’t mean we can’t be _friendly_ while doing so.”

“And in what way are you using me now?”

“Certainly the same way you are using me right now,” He retorted, though he seemed more amused by it than offended. “Though I wonder who will last longer in this.”

He said that, but there was already some confidence, some smugness in his stature, and she knew exactly at that moment he was sure to win.

Oh, if she could scratch him! Erase that smirk with her claws and then kiss away the pain!

She blinked, unsettled with the last part.

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett, you do not wonder at all!”

“I know you. I know the world we live in and its opportunities. Whatever what you think you are doing, know that I most certainly already did it first, and I will certainly do much worse to get what I want.”

She swallowed, finding it hard to breathe under the pressure of his eyes. And how hot the room was at that moment! It all seemed so suffocating.

“And what do you want?”

He examined her for a long time.

“All due in time, my dear. Don’t be too impatient.”

She needed to get out now.

“Of course,” Her voice came out a bit choked. She tried to compose herself, putting a light, silly smile on her face. “Why, all these talks about opportunities and the world, I’m all so tired now…

He snorted. “Oh, but it had only begun, dear Scarlett. Don’t you dare turn back now.”

She huffed, her eyes flaring.

“Goodnight, my love.”

Lightly, before she even reached the door, he rose and strode towards her. She froze when he took her hand in his, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he raised it to his lips. His hands were warm and callous, firm on her, but not enough to prevent any escape. It was like he was daring her to step back and surrender herself to him. He was looking at her like a predator would its prey as his left hand wandered sensually from her palm to her shoulder. The path of it was a sweet torture for her heart and body. Her knees seemed like jelly under her, and she knew he was aware of the effect he had on her from the twinkling light in his eyes. Damn him. Damn her.

It was only when her back knocked on the door that she realized in her turmoil she exactly did so.

“Goodnight, my love.”

She blinked.

And with one last appraisal, he let her go and she rushed out of the room. But as she reached her bed, she found the burn on her body was even worse, her heart racing as if she had been running away from danger. Yet, she knew danger was still near, and its taste was even thrilling than she had thought it was. It somehow made her feel more alive than ever, and in her mind, one thing was clear.

She wanted more.


	16. Chapter 16

“I want to see the elephants!” Ella cried.

“No, the bears!” Wade countered, stubborn.

“Damn you, Rhett,” Scarlett grumbled."Damn you to Halifax and back."

Said Rhett only chuckled, tapping lightly on the hand that was in the hook of his arm.

It was such a beautiful day with the sun and the clear sky above them. Not a day to wear black, but still she did so, if only to prove to her husband she could do it. The air was filled with spice and sugar, and at the view of the toffee apples was simply mouth-watering. There was a glint in Scarlett’s eyes as she glanced at them, however she scowled when her husband ever remarked on it. Still, he paid for them, but she suspected it was only to mock her as bite by bite she delighted in the sweet fantasy.

There had been only a few circuses coming near Tara, Gerald having frightened one daring to hire a fake Irish Giant. She could still remember his indignation as he threatened to come shooting the next one who would try. No circus for little Scarlett then. She only had the time to see the toffee apples, only to be berated by Mammy who said ladies couldn’t eat them properly.

She sighed. She missed the old woman, who had been there at each part of her life. Knowing, loving Mammy…

No, Esther. Esther who had filled the blanks Ellen had left, and had been so much more…

Suddenly, she was not hungry anymore. She gave the rest to a hungry Ella, under Rhett’s bewildered glance.

“Well, it’s no Barnum’s Great Circus, but at least there’s some idea,” He had said. She had not replied, not knowing who that Barnum was. She wandered silently, her heart lonely for home.

Soon, Pansy and Prissy were requested to escort the children where they wanted to go, while Rhett and Scarlett had to make proper salutations to the peahens that had wandered so far from Atlanta. On their way to meet them again, she observed the crowded place, people being gathered around the cages with melancholic animals barely meeting their eyes.

“Sad, isn’t it?” Rhett commented. “They’re like…”

“Prisoners,” she whispered.

He looked at her closely.

"Yes. Prisoners."

He led her elsewhere, in the artists’ quarters, where some were already practicing. A violinist was doing a little air of Dixie, and she smiled at the memory.

Since when was the last time she had danced? She could barely remember it.

She hummed absent-mindedly, her hips swaying slightly with the rhythm of the music.

At her side, there was a mocking flame in Rhett’s eyes as he watched her. He dared her to dance, but she scoffed, saying how it was poor of taste to do so when so many of them were watching. He replied it was what made it more exciting. She was about to retort he only had to do so himself when an old woman accidentally shoved into her with a toffee apple, ruining her dress.

“Excuse me, sweet lady,” She said, distraught.

Scarlett was tempted to scold and shout, but then Rhett was here, and she knew he wouldn’t be more pleased to see her turned into ridicule for such a small thing. Thus, she put a sweet smile on her face and said it was nothing. But the woman insisted, and led her to her tent. Once, Scarlett looked at Rhett, but he shrugged, amused, and told her he would wait for her there. She stuck out her tongue at him, but it only made him laugh harder.

The woman gave her new clothes, but then Scarlett refused. Still, it was handed to her with a knowing way, for “secret meetings.” Scarlett froze and eyed the woman suspiciously.

“Do you know…?”

The woman’s eyes glinted in the darkness of the tent.

“I don’t know the particularity, but it’s my job to see. And what I see is that you are a woman with many secrets. So secrets meetings are in order. Keep it. It will serve you well.”

She shrugged, putting the bundle of clothes in her sash, then looked around.

A shiver came to the young woman as she stared at the other, realizing suddenly the decorations in it.

It was a fortune teller’s tent. She froze, then insisted to go. But then the woman took her wrist abruptly, her eyes turning white.

“Keep your children close,” She said. “But know how to let them go when the time comes. Beware of the peacock. He’ll try to charm you, to make you his, but his words are poison and you might taste the revenge too keenly. Trust the ones who love you. Learn to see past their lies and you may find happiness. Be cautious of the feelings of others around you. There’s fire in your future, Scarlett O’Hara. Fire and wind, all dancing around each other until it explodes. If you don’t pay attention, death might be the only way out.”

Scarlett had never been a particularly religious person. Not a very believing one in general. Her strength was in the concrete, palpable things. This area here was strange, and yet familiar, but otherwise terrifying to her comprehension. Supernatural phenomena were not to her taste, and even if as an adolescent she found inspiration in it for it said to her such pretty things, she as an experienced was very wary of it. She wanted to scoff at the idea, but then with the light, with this old woman, looking very much like death itself and these words that sounded a little too much like fate, she was very much frightened.

Then the grip lessened and she ran away, bumping into Rhett in the way. He chuckled as she stared at him. Under his gaze, she found herself nervously justifying her panic, excluding completely the content of the prophecy. At the end of it, he shook her head and gave her a mocking grin, and she was tempted to slap him.

“I didn’t think you were that much of a superstitious fool, my dear.”

She scowled. “I’m not.”

“I believe you are. Let me guess. When you were a girl, you asked a soothsayer who you were going to marry, and she told you you would be the bride of a young blond hero, isn’t it?”

She relaxed. He always had that power to turn the situation around, so that even she could find it amusing.

“Absolutely not.” She said with a smile.

For it was a dark-haired man she had talked about. A man with a mustache, especially.

Some coincidences were really strange. But it was one she wanted to believe now, even if at the time she thought men like that were not to her taste.

She had been a girl, then. Now… Oh, he was very much to her taste. Too much, maybe.

“No? Surprising.”

She cocked her head towards him, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“It seems you don’t know everything, husband.”

“About you? There are always some surprises.” She felt herself smiling with satisfaction, and it brought a flush on her cheeks. He smirked, amused. “So, what did she say about your future, my dear? Are you going to tell it to me?”

“Oh, I’m certainly going to meet a handsome dark stranger,” She said, trying to wave it off like it was nothing important.

He laughed. “Good try, but that’s not it.”

She paused, a pout on her lips, stared at him and frowned.

“I don’t really know. It was strange and incoherent. Fire. Wind. Death. Something about a peacock. Trust the ones who love you, but they lie, so try to see through it. Keep your children close. Let them go.”

“Some parts are common sense. But for once you’re right. Most of it is quite incoherent.”

It made her shiver, the memory of it. The words that signified little for her, but yet that seemed so important… No matter how much she put her mind to it, she couldn’t put any sense to it.

“My, it really makes you nervous,” Rhett finally said, surprised. “Well, if it’s only that, I will show you that this woman is only a scam.”

She shook her head, paling, but it seemed to encourage him as he led them back to the tent. She reluctantly followed him, a shadow to his shadow, when she would have wanted to be so much stronger.

The woman was still here, as if waiting for them. She had changed then, and her clothes were very much like that of a gypsy, with a patchwork of colorful fabrics and pearls in her hair. Though Scarlett wondered how she could have changed in such a short time.

“I think you quite frightened my wife,” Rhett said with a hint of a smile, that showed his white teeth. “I’m here to see what it is all about.”

“The truth is scary,” The woman said. “But I do believe you know that. Sit with your wife, sir. I see you want your own prediction.”

He smirked, settling himself on one of the chairs. Scarlett hesitated.

“So what do you do?” He said, crossing his arms, amused. “Read the palm of my hand? Look into some blurry ball?”

The woman only looked at him, deeply, as if she was trying to dig deep into his soul. He met her with a blank stare, each staring at the other as if it was a battle of wills. Scarlett looked at it, fascinated, though a bit offended to be excluded.

“You, mister, are your worst enemy," She said softly. “There are shadows in your past and your heart, and a cold grip that prevents you from living as freely as you would wish. You wear a mask so often you don’t even know when it’s on,” Scarlett couldn’t help but snigger at this, her hand hiding the wide opening of her mouth, though the rest of it made her stiffen and she missed his amused grin. “You think secrecy is the best way to play, but it’s a wild card, the one you want. I see many who’d like to catch her. Some for charms, some for harm. Some for spite. Some for comfort. She might easily be caught in a bigger wind than expected if you don’t pay attention. Keep her close, be true to her and she’ll be true to you. But if you don’t, if you play with her blindly, you might lose it all. Life is no gamble, sir.”

Another woman. She should have known! This was why he had been so insistent on her signing the papers!

But then where did Tara fit into this?

“Life is a gamble, Madame. So why not playing it?”

Did he want to offer it to her?

“Then it’ll be your misfortune. And hers. Except you know the rules of the game. She doesn’t…”

Oh, no, she wouldn’t let him! Never, never, never…

“All this time you’ve been willingly vague. I think you will have a harder work to convince me.”

She had been such a fool!

“I’m sure a man like you who forced his fate by the precision of his gun and the chaos around him indeed would have trouble believing.”

He flinched. Scarlett froze, the abruptness of his move stopping her current of thoughts.

“You should know better though. Holding her at gunpoint won’t convince her to surrender to you and lower her own weapons. Nor all the money in the world. You’ve already tried and failed. Go, now,” The gypsy said, shaking her head with a strange glint of sadness. “You don’t really want to hear it from me.”

With a surprising numbness, he nodded, mechanically taking Scarlett’s hand in his. She stared at him, surprised, but did not dare to say anything.

When they were finally out of the tent, he released a heavy breath of air, breaking the tension between them.

“Well, that was an experience.”

She raised her eyes at him.

“So you’re convinced.”

He shook his head, and finally, he looked his old self again.

“Absolutely not. The woman knows how to read the situations, that’s all.”

She did not dare to comment more, following him silently until finally they entered the main tent, taking their places at the front, only a fence, and an abrupt descent separating them from the scene where the artists and the animals would be performing.

People were taking their seats, the tent filling itself little by little. As Rhett sat, his long legs crossed, she stared at him, leaning at the barrier. She did not feel good enough to sit that close to him without leaning on him. And she did not dare to see how he would react. Not now, when her heart felt so heavy with the new revelations.

The air smelt of dust and sweat, a suffocating scent that made her feel anxious and trapped.

She sighed, whispering to herself. “Maybe it isn’t worth it.”

“What isn’t worth it?”

Startled, she turned towards Rhett, but then no lie would come to her. And she was tired of giving in to him. She was tired of being weak in front of him. She met his eyes defiantly, her tone as hard as steel as she replied to him.

“I don’t know who this woman is and I don’t want to know. Maybe it is foolish of me to think I can seduce you back, but I will continue so anyway. I’ve always known you would find another woman when the time comes. But loving a woman has never stopped you from looking at others and wanting them,” He laughed darkly at this, but she ignored him. “But this one? From what I’ve gathered, she might be the death of you, and I care for you enough to be upset by it!”

“Oh, you’re so terribly wrong, Scarlett. You care, don’t you?”

“Of course I do!” She scowled. “I know you, and I know that when you’re determined to do something, you will do anything to get it. Even the most terrible things! Why, holding her at gunpoint? What are you, some kind of cowboy?”

“That wasn’t meant to be literate, my charming ignoramus," He replied with amusement. “Well, if you care about my happiness, maybe you would help me?”

She didn’t like where it was heading.

“… it depends.”

He chuckled.

“My dear, either you care, either you don’t. And if you care, you help, isn’t it?”

_My dear, I don’t give a damn. I don’t give a damn. A damn. A damn._

“I suppose.”

“Really?” He chuckled. “More the pity. Is jealousy eating you up, my pet?”

An angry red raised on her face, from her cheekbones to her forehead.

“Jealousy? Fiddle-dee-dee! More like pity for your… Watling woman. My, it seems another woman is competing for your affections!”

He snorted. “You never liked Belle. So don’t pretend otherwise.”

“I’m tired of these petty fights.” 

It wouldn’t give me you, she was tempted to say. But he seemed to catch it anyway.

He stared at her, his eyes following the line of her clenched jaw, then up at her own. He seemed to be amused by what he saw, for there was a twinkle in his black orbs, and one corner of his mouth lifted. He hummed, looking at the circus tent that stretched high above them.

“There’s indeed a woman I’ve met.”

_I do have that one mouse I'd like to catch._

She froze. Then continued staring ahead, shaking her head.

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Oh, I’m sure you would like to know who she is.”

“Absolutely not.”

He grinned.

“She’s an incredible woman. Fierce and proud, smart, and strong. Incredibly irresistible. Especially when she thinks I don’t see through her games. It gives her an air of satisfaction that lights up her eyes, however, I can see she’d rather have me than playing. Though she’d have a hard time admitting to it.”

“I’m not listening.”

“But what can I say?” He shrugged. “It seems I’ve finally met my match, and more than that, she is learning. I should have known she would always surprise me, and I’m willing to let her have her own little adventure, if only it gives her more strength in herself to meet me halfway in the end. God knows she raises each time adversity comes to her, and I’ve always thought women had a right to adventures of their own choosing as much as the men did. It may at least prevent them to live in fantasies that would never go anywhere. You see, I’ve met her under peculiar circumstances, however, when I saw her, I felt hope again. Hope in a time where everything seemed dull and dreary to me.”

“Great balls of fire, I don’t care a bit of what you’re saying!”

“By God I love her, but she’s maddening. She’s so obtuse when it comes to me!”

Her nails dug into the wood of the banister as she stared and stared at the red dust ahead of her, the red heady dust that was hot and made her choke. She gritted her teeth, yet it stayed stuck.

“Stop it! Stop it!”

“See, I don’t want to make any other mistakes, I want to do things properly this time. So, my darling, for someone who knows me now more than I would permit others, you who are one of my oldest friends… How do you think I should proceed… to get her to leave it all behind and admit she can’t live without me?”

At the word “mistake”, she wanted to scratch his eyes and leave him to bleed. Was it what she was to him? A mistake? A taste of a greater love that he would find along the way?

Leave it all behind? How dare he ask her for advice for him to leave her all behind? She saw red, her hands itching to claw at his eyes. Yet, there were too many people, it was too crowded, and she couldn’t hear her own thoughts and…

“By God, Scarlett, I’m trying to be clear to you! Can’t you see I… ?”

“You insufferable bas…!”

She was about to throw herself at him when suddenly she was shoved aside. In the first seconds, she was able to see Rhett’s shocked expression as she bumped into the barrier, letting out a little shriek. Her body fell back, and she found herself rolling down the descent, finally falling almost at the center of the scene.

“The tigress!” Someone shouted. “Why is it out?”

She froze, for one moment not daring the meet the eyes of the feline she knew was behind her. She dared not breathe, her heart thumping loudly, her pulse deafening in her ears as the growls of the beast came to her. She knew there was shouting as well, maybe what seemed like a fight, from the side she had fallen on, but her main focus was here and now, in front of that immediate danger.

Oh, if only someone would help her… Why didn’t anyone do something? Where was the tamer?

“MAMA!” She heard.

Abruptly, she raised her head, numbed by the pain. It came from behind her, and she found herself trying to stand to see if it was true.

“Bonnie?” She whispered.

Yet, it was only the tigress’s yellow eyes she met. Eyes that seemed angry yet melancholic, as the eyes of a mother having lost a child.

She reached out, her hand shaking.

“MAMAAA!!!!”

Ella.

“No, MOTHER!” Wade.

Her children were looking. Oh, God, how could this have happened?

She turned her head in their direction, trying to reassure them. She was fine, She would be okay, and there was Bonnie, wouldn’t they want to see her? And the tigress, they needed to find its cub…

Yet, it was that move, the moment of vulnerability that unsettled the animal, who pounced on her, before letting a soft mew, mere inches before her own tiny frame. The paw risen at her grazed her right side, drawing blood.

Scarlett turned her head towards the sound of the gun and met blue eyes.

Todd Smith had shot the beast. He was the one saving her.

Suddenly, her strength evaporated like snow at the sun and she knelt, her blood that had been boiling with instinct turning cold, icy even.

She felt the slight sting at her right side. Yet, her mind was a blank page.

“Scarlett!” Beside her, she heard Rhett’s voice, and yet, she did not dare to believe it was. Everything felt so blurry and unreal, and there was a dull buzzing in her ears. “My darling, can you hear me? Scarlett, say something! Please… Anything….“

A slight trembling touch on her cheeks, more and more insisting. A slap, then. She blinked, the sting so hard it made her bit the inside of her mouth until it bled.

“You crazy woman!” She heard Rhett’s snarl above her. “What is wrong with you? You almost jumped into its jaws! Do you want to die?”

He was so pale… Why was he pale? She wondered. His eyes were almost feverish, like when they had been when Bonnie died.

Bonnie… What was she doing there? She couldn’t…

She was held in arms, but couldn’t recognize them. She was examined, then put on the carriage, one man shaking her head at her and whispering soft words before leaving.

On the other side, Rhett was looking at her, his eyes intense, yet she didn’t know what he was looking for.

There came silence, before suddenly the children joined the carriage, filling the space with their worries that disturbed her.

“Mama…” Ella cried, shaking her arm. “Mama, are you alright?”

“Ella," Rhett softly intervened. "your mother is quite shaken up. She needs to rest.”

But the little girl stayed stuck at her mother’s side, taking her arm against her tiny chest, whispering “I love you” repeatedly, as if it would make her alright again.

Wade said nothing, but as they finally reached home, he took her into his arms, his whole body shaking.

“Don’t leave us, Mother…” Wade whispered, a sob breaking his resolve, but certainly not his fierce embrace.

She patted his head clumsily, though she felt still so far away. It felt like seeing the scene at a distance. She could see the worry in Wade’s eyes, his fear to lose her. And yet, she was powerless to do anything about it. Her gaze was unfocused.

“Why, Mistah Rhett, what done happend…”

“Pansy,” He snapped with authority. “Save your little act for ones who care and lead the children upstairs.”

Pansy’s eyes widened, surprised, then she nodded. Her skin paled, and she seemed almost afraid. Scarlett didn’t look. She couldn’t. Everything happened around her and she couldn’t do anything. She couldn't see anything. She was in a daze, lost in a mist.

She felt herself being held once again, and awareness came little by little, enough to know he hadn’t left her, and he had been the one at her side all the way, taking her into his arms like a fragile doll. He made her sit on the mattress of her room, then stared at her, his black orbs glinting with what looked a little too much like fear.

“Rhett…” She finally said. “There was Bonnie… I’ve heard her.”

His eyes widened in shock, but then understanding came to him and it filled his black orbs with something that looked a little too much like pity.

He must take her for a madwoman, Scarlett thought, distraught. She had to stop this.

He looked at her attentively, his hand on her knee. She knew he waited for her to speak, yet the words wouldn’t come.

He sighed, slowly raising up, his hand slipping from her legs to grip the mattress. His eyes left her and he shook his head, his body turning away from her.

“You’re still shocked. I’m going to…”

“No, Rhett!”

Finally slipping out of her daze with the fear of him leaving, she caught his sleeve and put her hands behind his neck as he turned towards her, surprised. She kissed him, the tip of her tongue grazing the opening of his lips as she tasted the salt in them. She pressed him lightly, her breasts against his chest, the buttons on his clothes certainly leaving a mark. She could feel his heartbeats against her. Shivers ran through her spine as his arms gathered at the small of her back, pushing her harder against him. He opened his lips and took control, his tongue meeting hers fiercely as if he wanted to know everything about her. She moaned against his lips, the heat between them sparkling into fire as the ache settled between her thighs. Her hands ran through his hair, ruffling it ferociously as he held her body backward, her feet dangling against his legs.

“Stay,” She whispered through the kisses. “Please. Please. Please.”

Oh, she was ready to do anything to make him stay with her at that moment! Or if he couldn’t, she would have followed him until the end of the world….

They stayed still one moment, forehead against forehead, nose against nose. His eyes were shut and she watched him, his mouth half opened, but the jaw tensed. His grip on her lessened, his arms slowly sliding from her body.

He breathed in and out, before stepping back. His hands settled into fists, then he pushed them in his pockets and took a step back. She blinked, confused, but he did not say anything. He turned away. He turned away and as he did, she fell on her knees, without the strength of his support. It felt like a bucket of cold water, and she hiccoughed, fearing she might drown.

She would not get him back. He was already too far gone. She might not even get more than that earth-shattering kiss they shared. And yet, how she craved it. How she needed it!

And yet… He had made her plead and beg when she had been determined not to. How could she expect him to respect her now? She had given him the one thing his vanity wanted, and more so, she had begged for more!

She had revealed her cards too soon, like he had told her yesterday!

Well… not all of them, she thought suddenly, the light coming into her mind. Not the ones that could change it all.

Her fists clenched as she measured her options. She raised, pacing, unaware that Rhett had returned and was eyeing her suspiciously. As he looked at her, whatever he had decided seemed to have settled, for he strode to her with the determination of an Indian coming to war and turned her towards him, handing her the glass he had been gripping torturously just seconds before. His other hand went to the back of her neck, forcing her to stay still and look at him.

“Here,” He said with a blank look that made her doubt anything ever happened between them. “Drink it. It will help you.”

Overwhelmed by his presence and the force of his touch, she nodded and opened her lips as he made her drink it, the liquid bitter and milky. His gaze was intense now and he made it so she drank it all, though some drops slipped from her lips and ran on her chin. She coughed and blinked, her eyes tingling.

What was there in this drink?

Was he trying to poison her?

Her legs gave up on her and he caught her in his arms, the glass shattering on the floor as he let it go, before putting her in her bed. She saw him take off the dress, grazing the basque she had put underneath, before removing the petticoat. She was a doll in his hands, and she felt her strengths slowly failing her. She so terribly wanted to sleep.

Maybe indeed it did not happen. Maybe it was a dream, a wishful thinking made by her troubled mind after her encounter with the tigress. She felt cold just thinking about it, and yet her lips were still warm and wet, and she found herself licking them, though now the taste had soured with what he had given her.

He pushed back the hair from her face, and his hands lingered there, the fingers combing absent-mindedly the roots of some locks. She shivered slightly, her eyes dropping at the unexpected caress.

“You need to sleep, Scarlett. Everything will be better tomorrow, I promise. Rest. No one will harm you here. I won’t let them.”

Time after time, she saw him trying to smooth and tuck the covers he had put on her, as if somehow it would prevent her to move and escape. Escape? She neither had the will nor the energy to do so!

Finally, after some torturous minutes, he raised abruptly, striding far away from her as if resolute to run away.

No, not again! She thought, distraught.

“When did you start hating me, Rhett?”

Her voice was soft and weak, and it had such a plead in its tone she almost felt ashamed by it. Yet it made him freeze right away.

“Hate? Hate??”

His voice was hoarse and strained. The eyes he turned towards her were filled with an emotion that burned bright, and yet black as the night. He was terrifying, that pirate of hers, and yet even like that, she couldn’t help loving him, the fear never settling in her heart. The words spilled from her mouth freely, her gaze dropping on the sheets that had been put on her.

“You know, I think you did since the beginning. You didn’t want to love me. Didn’t want to be attached to me. I was the one thing that tied you down to earth when you thought you could run and fly everywhere. Loving me clipped your wings and you resented every minute of it. And when I wouldn’t return it without you telling me… You just turned away and resented me for it. But you did not fight. You did not even try. You kept your heart at bay and with that left me in the dark.”

His hand was on the handle of the door, gripping it tightly. He shook his head with what appeared to be anguish. But anguish for what? Was he feeling guilty now?

“When you learn, you learn quickly, my dear,” He said, after releasing a heavy breath of air. Softly, he went back to her, kneeling to be once again at her side. “Hate is so close to love, my dear, sometimes it’s hard to see where one ends. Or when. I know I never did, for all my attempts to. I was so afraid of yielding to you, then. You have a way of staying in the blood of any man like a poison and I don’t even know if there’s a cure....”

The last words were barely a whisper as he ran his fingers through her hair, untangling them while her mind was hazier and hazier. All she could understand was that he thought her a disease, a poison, words that echoed with that of his lover. Yes, he hated her. She had been right about it. He couldn’t wait to be rid of her.

Who was she, this woman? What could she give Rhett that Scarlett couldn’t?

“And now… are you afraid? With this woman of yours?”

He stared at her, as if befuddled, then sighed with frustration.

“More than ever. But I have other reasons now,” The back of his hand caressed her cheek, then lingered at the roots of her hair. He looked at her as if she might disappear at any moment. “Sleep, Scarlett. You’re safe now, I promise. No one will harm you now. No one, nothing…”

His words were fast, almost nervous, and she wondered if he was trying to convince her or himself. But all that she wanted was for him to touch her, to stay with her.

_I’ll take your poison, Rhett. But I’ll be damned if I don’t take the sweetness that comes before it._

And yet, the more she fought to stay awake, the more it took her in.

When she closed her eyes, she thought she might never open them again. But she whispered “I love you" all the same.

But when she opened her eyes hours later, she was in the dark, alone and very much alive.

It was a drug, something to put her to sleep he had slipped in her drink!

She cursed Rhett for all eternity and more for good measure, and threw away the Arabian Nights exemplary that was put on her nightstand. She then raised from her bed and looked at her clock.

Eight o’clock, visibly in the evening. She had slept the day off, and the meeting would soon begin!

She looked around, wondering what she might put on to be unrecognizable, before seeing her sash. Of course, the bundle of the fortune teller!

She stopped before touching it, terrified at such a coincidence, then decided to shrug it off. She had survived a tigress, she had survived Rhett. What did it matter, what an old woman said? Blood was boiling again in her head, and she wanted all of them to pay for what she had lived.

She began to take off her shimmy, before taking the clothes, putting Rhett’s shirt in afterthought to give her courage. It was in such a position that Pansy saw her, struggling with the bodice of the gypsy. She took her in, her eyes narrowing before it glinted in recognition.

“I don’t think you should do that, Scarlett.”

“Is Rhett here?”

“No, Scarlett. He hasn’t come back.”

“The children?”

“Put back in their beds. It had been a long day and worry had quite exhausted them.”

“Then I have to do it.”

“Scarlett…”

“I don’t care what you think. I’m going and that’s it!” She scowled. “I’m not staying in this house where someone tries to drug me without doing anything about it!”

The young servant bit her lip, conflicted.

“It was bad of him to do so, but…”

“No but, I have enough!” She stomped her feet on the ground. “I will go no matter what, and you’re either my ally or left behind.”

Under Pansy’s gaze, she nonetheless lowered her head, feeling like a petulant child suddenly.

“Though I’d rather you be my ally,” She added begrudgingly.

Something lightened in the servant’s gaze, then.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No!” She stopped her. “Stay. Look after the children. If I don’t reappear at the end of the night, call the officers and tell them I went to the warehouse.”

“Scarlett…”

“Please. You’re the only one I can trust now,” She found herself pleading. “Take care of my children. Prevent them from going into my room. Tell them I love them and that I’ll see them tomorrow.”

“And you expect me to do that without wondering what you are doing, and with who you are?”

“I expect you to trust me like a friend.”

“… fine.”

“Thank you.”

Without a thought, she embraced her true accomplice, that friend she found in the way she never knew she would one day consider her as such. Pansy patted Scarlett’s back awkwardly, before helping her with the bodice and adding a scarf of deep green to hide her hair. She put some dark powder on her face and neckline, a mocking gift Rhett had once given her when he said she put too much white powder, to the point she looked like a vampire.

She then put a comfortable cape, that Pansy lent her, hid a gun and a paper-knife in them, and followed her down the stairs. The house was silent, almost dreadfully so, and the stairs were cracking so easily!

Pork’s voice made them stop in the way, as they were about to open the background door. 

“Pansy! Ah done told you not to wander in dah night like dat!” He scowled, before looking at Scarlett. "Who’s that wench? Did you brought us a gypsy?”

“A friend, Pork.”

“No good bizziness, Pansy. Mist’ Rhett done asked us to watch over Miss Scarlett tonigh’, an’ yah bring a stranger here?”

Scarlett almost chuckled. It felt so strange, not being recognized by the man who served her Pa before she was even born. Still, she tucked at her hood.

“She was leaving, Pork, no worry. Mistress Scarlett is still upstairs, sleeping. I locked her door.”

“Bad bizziness, what Mist’ Rhett is doing. Mist’ Gerald wouldn’t have liked dat, dis done to his Puss.”

No, he wouldn’t, Scarlett thought darkly. He wouldn’t have liked any of what happened to her.

But soon, everything would be over. Soon, he would not laugh at her anymore. He would not play with her anymore. He was welcome to that other woman! She doubted she would take him once she saw how ruined he would be. Why, he had ruined her own reputation, encouraged her to lose it, and used it for his own gains! Now it was her time to play. He would see that that daughter with a fiery Irish father and a delicate lady with French blood was not to cross.

And she was more determined than ever. She took her horse and began her journey.

They had decided on a warehouse, a convenient location because it wasn’t so far from home actually.

She gave the password and was led in by John, then the discussion began. No new information was said, it was mostly a reminder that Lord Fenton would be coming on Monday, and that they needed a plan to divert him. She proposed the auction as a way to draw him near. After all, most rich people were attracted by such events, she had learned it. That because they could show off their fortune without being seen as pretentious about it.

Irritably, Todd’s gaze stayed on her all of the time.

At the end of it, the men decided it had been a very satisfying discussion and patted each other in the back, dismissing the fact that it had been Scarlett that had given the idea. They then very much decided their little plotting was enough for tonight and that it was better it finished in a pub.

A pub… She wondered how it was. An Irish Pub, nonetheless. She was curious about it. It had been talked about as a rambunctious place, but still quite respectable for some of the men of the Old Guard were frequenting it (but then, some were also frequenting Belle’s house).

After all, with all these clothes, she was unrecognizable! And who would dare to harm a gypsy that seemed poor like her?

She imposed herself on them, then. Hugh Olsen grumbled and called it a night. Patrick McConach grumbled and said that if it was so, he would go first. Todd welcomed her at first a bit grudgingly (though without any grumble), but she was so charming he did not dare to refuse.

Thus, it was Todd’s duty to escort her. And John. But John was silent and still, and he didn’t seem to care a bit whether she came or not. She eyed Todd and took a step towards him.

She could cheat on Rhett. Yes, he had done it so many times before, after all… It would serve him right… She glanced at the man, wondering how it could be. But nothing came to her. Only the emptiness she felt in the hole that Rhett had left her with. She sighed.

“So these are the hands that saved me,” She put a kiss on it, trying to imagine it was Rhett’s. She felt him shiver and sighed once again. Rhett wouldn’t have done that. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, my lady.”

No one could replace Rhett. No one in her heart.

She felt disgusted at herself.

She shook her head. No, she couldn’t. She couldn’t, she couldn’t….

She lowered her eyes, affecting that demure act she knew he liked, and let herself be led to it.

And when finally the mysterious door of the pub opened, she was welcomed into a different world, so close to home, with the scent of baked potatoes and merry music. There were talking and laughing, and booming voices like her Pa, which made her almost want to cry. Until her eyes caught a familiar silhouette and she froze.

That was Suellen, on her best clothes visibly, waiting at the counter with a hopeful glance.

How could it be? She was supposed to go next week!

Scarlett scowled. Had she run away from her husband? Her family? Tara?

Swiftly, she led Todd on a corner and tried to make him see.

“My sweet knight…” She began.

“Lancelot,” He told her so ardently it almost made her roll her eyes.

“My sweet Lancelot. Here is my sister waiting for mischief. Would you mind escorting her back to the place she is staying? The…?”

“National Hotel,” John provided for her.

She scowled. “The National Hotel? Does she have any idea how expansive that is?”

Todd looked at her with surprise.

“But never mind. Tell her… Tell her you’re the one she’s waiting for. Or if she doubts, that you’ve been sent by the one she’s waiting for. Who knows which one of them could have lured her there. My sister is greedy and has already proved she would do everything to get more than what she has, Lancelot, and I may not get along with her, but she’s still my family, and any scandal touching her might be touching me and my children.”

_That’s the pot calling the kettle black, my pet._

She shook her head, angry with herself for thinking about him at that moment. She continued.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Please, would you mind doing so? For me?”

“Anything for you,” He said, and the fool seemed to believe it.

“Well, then…”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

She sighed, glad to see the back of him. At her side, John snickered. But then he seemed to have noticed something at the other side and suddenly decided to leave her too.

She huffed. She didn’t need him anyway. All was bustling with excitement and fantasy, and the music, oh! She so wanted to dance!

Her feet stomped without her noticing at first, until a booming voice made her realize she was noticed.

“Oh, that’s the rhythm of Ireland, my lass! Show it to us!”

She froze, before remembering herself. She was clothed poorly, her skin dark like a gypsy. They did not recognize her. They just took her for a dancer.

So why not? Why not? The question rang on her ears until she had no choice but to do so.

So dance, she did, and merrily. She smiled and swayed, her feet on fire as she remembered her Pa and the mischievous glance he had when he would take her from the dance lesson her mother insisted on, to teach her “proper dancing”. She felt like a little girl again, up to mischief and laugh. Innocence again, without any burden and fear, without anything to hold her back when it came to these secret sessions with her father, that he couldn’t share with any of her other sisters.

They clapped as she moved, and soon enough, many joined her. And when the violon stopped, they cheered for her and she bowed regally.

She finally reached the counter, ordering a brandy for herself.

“My, I feel ravenous! I swear I could eat an entire beef!” She couldn’t help but say.

She heard a chuckle at her side. A chuckle that at first had the same rings as Rhett’s had, and it made her heart ache. But when she blinked, she could see the man beside her was very different from her husband.

The eyes for example. Dark, maybe, but not that dark, and quite small in comparison. Maybe they were a little green, they didn't know. And the hair, brown, though in that light it seemed ash blond.

“I see you’re a woman with many appetites.”

She scowled.

“None of them concerns you, I fear.”

The man smiled, seeming pleased by her reaction.

“You’re saucy.”

“And you’re cocky.”

“Irish, eh?” He continued, leaning towards her. “It seems we come from the same land.”

“My father was.”

“You’re a pretty wench, you know. How much would it take to get you in my bed?”

She recoiled, offended.

“I fear you have completely misread the situation, my lord. I’m no whore for you to toy with.”

Why, mission or not, revenge or not, she was not about to let herself be treated like Belle Watling! What a damn peacock, she thought. Strutting around as he owned the place. As if he was entitled to have everything!

She blinked. Peacock…

“Oho! Pardon me, my lady,” He said mockingly. “Dare I ask a name?”

“No, you don’t.”

She shook her head, trying to regain her composure.

“And, pray tell, who are you?” She continued instead.

“Richard Fenton. At your service, madam.”

She froze, recognition coming to her.

“LORD Fenton?”

“I see my title preceded me.”

“A lot of people talked about you,” She said with a teasing smile. “You’re quite the attraction, you know. And quite early too. I’m sure they said you would come on Monday”

On his face drew a very satisfied smile. He leaned in, his smile turning predatory.

“I love surprises,” He said with a sensual tone. “I quite like that one… And did they say I was handsome?”

She shook her head. She didn’t know if she wanted to slap the man or be pleased by his allusions.

“I don’t remember any mention of it.”

He chuckled, visibly pleased by her game.

“Shame on me. You know who I am, but I don’t. Are you a faery far from your homeland, to want to stay that mysterious?”

“I believe you’ll know soon enough, my lord. Though I dare think you’ll not be that confident when you know it.”

“Oh, count me doubly curious.” His eyes glinted. “I’ve never seen such a spirited dancer. I wonder if you could dance like they do in the Arabian Nights.”

Oh, this reference, she knew about!

“Someone did call me Scheherazade once.”

“Oh, then, sweet sultana, won’t you tell me your story?

“How you do run on,” She batted her lashes. “My story is not that interesting…”

“Oh, I doubt it.”

Through the music, they heard the clock ringing. Midnight. She shivered.

“I have to go.”

“Oh, another Cinderella,” He commented with delight. “Would you want me to escort you to your home?”

She cocked her head with a lopsided grin.

“Well, that would end the mystery, certainly.”

“And my misery.”

“You’re far from miserable, my lord,” She retorted. “I may have a little time though. So, what brings you so far from home, my lord?”

“Business. And women. Two, to be precise. But I bet they’re not as pretty as you.”

“And how can you know that?” She drawled, nevertheless a bit pleased by the compliment.

“I’ve corresponded with one of them. It was a dull affair.”

“I’m sorry it bore you so.”

“You have no idea.”

“Then why going through it?”

“The price in the end is worth it.”

“And what price is it?”

“Wouldn’t you want to know, my lovely?”

“I do love a good story.”

“I might tell it to you… Though I’d need some persuasion for it.”

“Oh, what could it be?” She batted her lashes. “A smile, maybe?”

He chuckled. “Not quite, though these dimples are quite charming. No… a kiss might do.”

“You promise?”

“I swear as a gentleman.”

“I’d rather you swore on your title,” she retorted.

He let out an admiring fit of laughter. “Alright, I swore on that too. And on the queen, of course.”

“Fine. Then…” Overcoming her disgust at such an act, she cupped his face, leaning in, her lids fluttering. He closed his eyes in invitation.

Her lips met his cheek with a resounding smack.

She leaned back with a saucy smirk.

“Your story, now, my lord!” She said tapping once good-naturedly on her lap.

He opened his eyes, startled, then roared in laughter.

“Why I should have known…” He said in between fits of laughters.. “Well then…”

But before he could continue, a man in costume came to him and whispered in his ears. He nodded, a note of regret in his eyes.

No, she would not end up in his bed today, she thought with a cynicism that looked a little bit too much like Rhett’s. Not now, not ever. She raised her glass to him.

“I’m sorry, it seems it is I that has to go.”

“Why, it was so amusing!” She affected a pout of discontent.

“Another time, maybe, my sweet sultana,” He bowed comically.

She nodded, a promising smile on her lips.

Which disappeared into a scowl once he was out of her sight.

A few minutes after, as she was sipping her drink, Todd Smith came at her side.

“It was Lord Fenton.”

“I know, I’ve met him.”

He fidgeted.

“No, I mean… the one she was meeting. She thought I was him, so I guess she never really saw him.”

“Good,” She said briskly. “That, at least is good news.”

She put her drink down, then left, with Todd following on her trail.

Where was that big red-haired man? That… Patrick McConagh?

“Mrs… Scarlett!” Todd called her.

But she continued looking until finally, she heard a grunt in the nearest alley.

It was him. Visibly drunk, and under a man that was trying to stab him merrily in the chest.

Oh, no, she thought with rage. She alone had the right to kill that man! For all the times she had wanted it!

With a strength and a cold-blooded instinct she didn’t know the extent of which she possessed, she took the paperknife in her cape and gripped it.

Suddenly, the man turned to her and lunged at her. In her mind was the image of the tigress and this time, she was determined. She would be the one to survive on her own terms, without owing anything to anyone.

Swiftly, her body reacting automatically, her hand aimed at the neck and the blade plunged in the tender flesh. Blood spilled and the man stared at her dumbly, before falling dawn when she finally removed it.

Her heart stopped beating for one minute. It had felt easy, too easy.

She let out a breath, counted to five. What had she done? Then looked at the man at her feet. Her hand shook.

She kicked him.

“Get up, you fool. Don’t make me regret I saved your life.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

There was a newfound respect in his eyes.

We Irish are proud people, but very loyal to those who earn it. And the Scottish are a bit like that too. You have to earn it, Puss, if you want their fealty, Gerald’s booming voice rang from a distant memory in her mind. And once you’ve done that, they will be yours. Now and always.

She had earned him.

She almost laughed at herself for such an irony. Why should she care about the loyalty of this one? He was more likely to get killed in the way!

“Now, get out!” She snarled. “You have work to do.”

And he did so, running with his tail between his legs.

She was left alone with the body of the man she killed. And Todd Smith. And a silence that did not seem to end.

“Let me accompany you at your home, my lady,” Todd said softly, putting his hands on her shoulders as if she was a child he had to protect.

The paperknife fell from her fingers and she let herself be guided, feeling suddenly very vulnerable. The thrill of the survival was gone. Now only was left the cold reality she lived in. Oh, what a monster she had become. It was Rhett’s fault, it was the world’s fault, it was her fault…

And somehow, this last part was even more bitter. Perhaps because it was the truth.

She let herself be guided until they came at the background door, where Pansy was waiting, a scowl on her face. Todd left her with a kiss on her knuckles and a hopeful glance, but she happily shut the door behind him. She sighed, not daring to cross Pansy’s gaze as she went to her rooms, this time not bumping into anyone. The door on her back, she finally asked.

“Did Rhett come back?”

“He didn’t, Scarlett.” She felt Pansy’s hand on her shoulder. “You’re shaking.”

She prevented herself from spilling it, afraid of how she might react. She was the only one that seemed to consider as a friend now. She couldn’t lose that.

“It has been a long night.”

She sighed, before throwing her clothes out of the way, staying with only Rhett’s shirt on her. She fell on her bed and tucked herself under the sheets. At a distance, Pansy left and closed the door. She closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come.

But it didn’t.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for your patience. This chapter has some heavy themes, and I hope I handled them good enough so that it's not offending, and it's still clear they are there to mark a development of the plot, the characters and their opinions (or change of). I hope you will enjoy it.

He was still not home when the sun raised high in the sky and it was time to go to Mass. Raindrops still marred the glass of the windows, and Scarlett prepared herself to face the looks of the Old Guard without him. She asked Pansy to tighten her corset until it hurt, hoping it might help her forget the fuzzy feeling in her heart and mind. Her feet still ached from yesterday, as if she had danced with the devil. Funnily, the devil wasn't there to remark on her lack of rouge or powder, nor her paleness and slightly bloodshot eyes.

Powder, by the way. How silly it had been of her to forget it. The dark matter had smeared on her pillowcase, and Pansy had scowled at this, wondering how it could be recovered. She had shrugged. It could not. But then, what was the cost of one pillowcase for her, or a man like Rhett? What significance it could have when she would have to justify Rhett's absence once again to the children, survive the parish community, and then the birthday party?

Wade said nothing on the way, but his hand clung silently to Scarlett's as Ella talked and talked, asking questions she could not answer, until she could not help but snap and tell her that yes, Uncle Rhett was not here, and no, she did not know where he was, or when he would return (or if). The little girl lowered her head and Scarlett sighed. She had done it again. She squeezed her daughter's hand and asked her what she would want for her birthday. The girl's eyes lightened up, and the babbling continued joyfully, with thankfully a very minimal need for Scarlett to reply at length.

It was almost tearing her apart to leave the children to the priest when he asked for them for the choir. She realized how much their presence prevented her from focusing on the crowd.

No, she could not ignore their stares and whispers. Especially when she had to place herself one rank away from Mrs. Merriwhether and Mrs. Meade, who did not seem to be aware she, and so many others could hear her. She stiffened but could not shut her ears from their gossiping.

"It is said he went to that madam's house…"

"Belle's?"

"No, another one, pay attention! It is known he had quarreled with her not so long ago and since then did not return. Now, here, it is said he shouted like a drunkard and claimed how much he wanted a divorce. And so many other scandalous things!"

"Poor Captain Butler…"

"Poor Captain Butler? I'd say poor Scarlett!"

"Oh, but Caroline, it is she who drove him to it! Don't you remember how good he was to little Bonnie? And she, so cold…"

"Little Bonnie is dead, God watches over her precious innocent soul. And with that went the only piece of his integrity. A rascal, he was before Scarlett, a rascal, he stayed after. And then, there was this miscarriage, and I wouldn't be surprised if… "

"No, Mrs. Meade, you wouldn't mean she…"

"Well, one can never be sure but…. Scarlett is here, though, and she had raised her head. She is still Ellen Robillard O'Hara's daughter. The follies of her youth are gone, and she is trying to change."

"But…"

"Dolly Merriwether, don't you remember what she is doing for the orphanage? Don't you know it's sinful to discourage a stray lamb, especially when the Lord's eyes are upon us? I am ashamed of you! If Melly believed in her and your daughter is ready to, you should as well!"

Scarlett bit her lip and raised. She could not stand it that much longer. Hypocrites, all of them, judging her, her marriage, changing their minds so easily!

She raised abruptly, forcing a few ill-at-ease persons to move. She could not breathe. She had to leave, if only for a moment.

As she passed them, she heard a bewildered whisper "do you think she heard us?"

She took refuge in an abandoned alcove and fanned herself, breathing in and out, hoping it would be enough to get rid of the tears that threatened to come. She stomped her foot, wanting to scream, but not daring to. The echo was already loud enough.

At least, she knew where Rhett had been. She knew what he had done. Such words couldn't have been a pure invention, a pure malice.

Damn you, Rhett Butler, she cursed through gritted teeth. Damn you to Halifax and back.

"You look beaten up, child."

Startled, Scarlett jumped and looked at the intruder. Her fan had fallen on the floor, and she found herself gaping before the one who had surprised her so.

"Mrs Meade…"

She looked at the woman and recoiled.

She hated their pity. She hated all of it.

And she hated Rhett for having to face it.

She took a big breath of air before replying.

"Just a little tired, thank you for your kindness. It is nothing. It is Ella's birthday, today…"

The old woman looked at her with kind eyes, nodding as she would for a child, and patted her hand.

"Oh, yes, sweet one. You're doing so much… How about you take tea with me tomorrow? Dr. Meade will be at work then, and will not disturb us."

Scarlett was tempted to scowl, but instead, she nodded, lowering her gaze demurely.

"It will be a pleasure, Mrs. Meade."

"Please, child. You have to come back. People will talk if you don't."

"A moment, please."

The woman nodded with understanding. Still, she waited a few seconds, her pitiful gaze on Scarlett as if it would change anything. She watched the back of her with relief. She closed her eyes and focused. She needed to be strong, she needed to face them, for herself, for the children, for…

"My lady?"

She almost screamed in frustration. The not so discreet whisper came from none other than Todd Smith, who had settled himself on the adjacent alcove.

"What are you doing here?" She hissed. Why aren't you with my sister?"

"She's still roaming in the Hotel. No one has joined her yet."

And what about now? Scarlett fidgeted, uneasy.

"Please keep watching. Or take her walking. She thinks you're Fenton, after all. See how much she is willing to sell our birthright for."

She could almost see him nodding.

"As you wish, my Guinevere."

"Guinevere?"

He fidgeted. "Olsen did say we have to keep up with the surnames."

She rolled her eyes.

"When there are many people who know me nearby?" She scowled. "Fiddle-dee-dee, that's ridiculous! If scandal there is, it would not be stopped by the use of nicknames," She sighed. "Go, now. Please."

"I will. You can count on me."

She shook her head, glad he could not see her face. Nor her his. If she had, she would have hit him.

"I know I can."

She waited for the footsteps to fade and left on her own.

For a spy and a speculator, this one was very bad at it.

She took back her place, only to see the empty places at her side had been taken by Maybelle Picard and her husband, who greeted her rather kindly.

Then the Mass began, and she felt glad not to have to continue talking. Her gaze found her children, and she felt suddenly far away from it all. She sang, prayed, but she knew it wasn't with her heart.

Once, the priest talked of a God that forgave it all, of a death that was only the beginning. Of the dead, especially children, being pure and innocent as they left their sins behind, becoming angels in the sky, watching over them.

What could he know of it?

She was tempted to scream. Oh Lord, she thought. I killed one man last night. Two in my whole life. How could it be so?

She felt Maybelle's hand on hers, and she knew she understood. She squeezed it more gratefully than she thought she could, and continued listening, the words stopping making sense to her at all.

Then, it was the children's time to sing, and she almost smiled at Ella's eagerness, though she could see from a distance the words she sang were not exactly the same as those expected of her. Wade was invested, and then Scarlett knew it was not thanks to her, but thanks to Melly and the faith she gave him.

Could her dearest friend be watching over them, even now? What could she even think of it all?

She nodded when, after the priest pronounced the end of Mass, the Picards took their leaves, promising to bring their children and friends in the afternoon.

She clung to Wade and Ella's hands when they came to her, but she could not fool them when they finally left and took the carriage to go home.

"Mother…"

"Mama, are you crying?"

She put a smile on her face, but she knew it wasn't genuine.

"No sweet-heart. I'm just tired."

She said nothing more, and they seemed to understand it was not time to ask anything more of her. Even when they settled for lunch, they said nothing, only lightening up when it was time to see the decorations for the party and add their own parts. That put a smile even on Scarlett's face, as she remembered her childhood. She found herself playing with them, teasing them with the ribbons and matching even Ella's eagerness for the opening of the gifts.

The children came, and soon the plays began. Prissy and Pansy were requisitioned for the handling of the cake, and even the beginning of the games.

Scarlett watched all of this carefully, trying to prevent any incident that might unsettle it all, verifying every little thing that had the potential to go awfully awry. And at least to put herself to work was a way not to think of the obvious absentee, whose presence was being missed so.

But Wade did not participate much at first. Instead, he was withdrawn, almost scowling at Raoul Picard as the boy watched him uneasy.

She had to do something, and quick. She had not worked so much, for it to be destroyed so easily by Wade's sudden bad manners!

"Why aren't you playing with the other children?"

"I don't want to be Raoul's friend, Mother. He had been mean to me, to you and Uncle Rhett!"

She sighed, already feeling the headache coming as her boy crossed her arms stubbornly.

"Try to, Wade. If not for you, for my sake. You may not like him, but one day you may need him. Do not do the same mistakes as I. You are my son, but you are also the son of Charles Hamilton. Just like he knew how to be sweet and friendly, I know you can too."

"But I am also Rhett Butler's son. Aren't I?" A little note of uncertainty was added in the end, despite the attempt at confidence.

She blinked, the name hurting her at her core.

"You are. But he also would agree that a person will always be in need of a friend for the most important parts of their lives."

Wade looked at her seriously, then nodded.

"I'll do it. I'll do it for you."

She smiled at him, relieved. "That's my boy. Now go and play. And if you can win against them, do it in whatever way you can!"

Wade only laughed in reply, before joining them. There, she could see he could be charming and persuasive, for, after a time, the group opened up to him.

The rest of the afternoon went peacefully enough, but Scarlett was incredibly relieved when finally the gifts were opened, the children fed, and the parents went to get them home. Had it been that way with Bonnie, or the other birthday parties? She did not seem to remember. But then, it had always been Rhett who organized it. Rhett…

She shook her head, before turning to her daughter, who was clutching at her dolls with a happy smile.

"Do you want something more, my sweet? Anything else your little heart wants?"

She was hoping for a no, but instead, she had another reply, with Ella's eyes glinting with enthusiasm at the idea.

"What if we went to the park, mama? Maybe Uncle Rhett will join us here!"

She winced but found herself replying to this instead.

"Maybe he will."

She doubted it very much. But then, she didn't want to be the one to crush the dreams of her little girl. Not again.

So to the park, they went, with Pork and Prissy joining them. Wade came with his fishing rod, and insisted to try it on the little pond, while Ella wanted to pick flowers on the other side. With so different activities, Scarlett regretted already to have proposed it. So she asked them to go accompanied by the two servants. But she did not join them right away. No. She wanted to reflect a little on her own and appreciate a moment of quietness before meeting them. Those were so hard to find, these days.

And visibly, too short for her liking. She froze as she turned her head.

There, before her, there was none other than Lord Richard Fenton, strutting like a peacock before her with a terrifying determination in his eyes, and a charming smile that made her think of a con man.

"Oho. I thought I would meet a gypsy, an Indian pagan at least, but here's a sweet sultana before my eyes!"

"My lord?"

He let out a loud, spectacular laugh.

"Oh, such a deceit on this sweet innocent face! I should have known!"

She frowned but tried to keep her composure. Her voice was cold as she replied.

"Whoever you are, this is no Europe, my lord. As a mother and a married woman, I have a reputation to hold… even if only for my children."

"And I will respect it. As long as you respect mine."

"And what kind of reputation do you have?"

"That of an admirer of remarkable women."

She almost giggled at this, with the waggling of his eyebrows and the comical way he was eyeing her.

"Admiring meaning wanting to bed, I suppose."

"That is never out of the question."

She let it hang between them for a moment, not knowing what to do with that answer that no gentleman would have uttered, before deciding to dismiss it. She was Rhett's wife, after all. She had heard worse than that. He could not shock her.

"But I'm sure you're here for a different reason than just the admiration of remarkable women," She said. "So what brings you really here, in this park at all places, my lord?"

He let out a short laugh.

"Direct, I like it," He commented. "We have one thing in common, it seems. We are all two people that had been wronged by none other than the terrific Rhett Butler. A man that had claimed to have affection for us…" He stopped a little, before chuckling. But it did not make the atmosphere lighter somehow. "well, maybe less for me, than for you, I gather, but who has shaped our lives in such a way it had made us miserable."

"And how had my husband made you miserable so?"

He met her unimpressed gaze with darkened eyes that put goosebumps on her flesh.

"He had killed the woman I loved, and the child she bore as well. And I'm pretty sure he killed one of my men last night."

All breath left her as she tried to make sense of the words that had just been uttered. No. It couldn't be. When? Where? How? HOW?

The paper-knife, certainly, it was the paperknife. It had his initials on it, like pretty much everything that was in the house.

But then, what had he been saying? Had Rhett killed a child? A woman?

She needed to focus.

"… How…?"

He gazed at the horizon, his mouth set on a hard line.

"Her name was Cassandra. She was my mistress, in a time when I couldn't claim her for my wife. We were at that time two young scoundrels, he the black sheep of his family, just sent away, and me, the young lord in training, constantly disappointing his parents. She was all I ever wanted. He took her from me, led her to… one of these women that would get rid of my son so he could have her all for himself. Oh, he did try to say he was sorry when he died, but then I knew it. I knew it all. And I did not forget, not forgive."

_Scarlett, I saw a girl die that way once. She was only a – well, a pretty good sort at that. It's not an easy way to die. I –_

Could it be…?

No. It must have been a misunderstanding. She knew her husband. No baby in a womb would have stopped him if he wanted a woman, to the contrary. He loved babies, loved their innocence too much to force a woman to do such a thing. Remembering his face when he evoked her, there was no guilt here, just a fear to see that again. And yet… No matter what was the truth, there was indeed this woman who had got rid of her child and died in the process. That was undeniable and common to both versions.

She shook her head, trying to gather her thoughts.

"So what do you want? Revenge?" She said idly, watching her nails as an attempt at normality. She almost hesitated, dreading the answer, but then she put a mask of carelessness on her face to hide it. She could not afford to show her feelings on the matter. "To ruin him? Murder him?"

He smirked.

"No, that would be too good of an end for that rascal," He replied with a cold calmness. "I want to make him pay. I want him to watch as I take everything that matters to him."

"And that includes me," She said with nonchalance, though she was tempted to laugh at him. How little he seemed to know! But then, he was from far away, how could he know?

"That includes you."

"That's quite bold of you to suggest I would be so willing to," She said, batting her lashes coquettishly with a teasing smile.

"Oh, I have no doubt you'll be willing," He said with a smirk she wanted to erase.

"And if I need the right incentive?"

"Oh, then I'm sure we'll find one together, sweet lady," He said with a pleasant smile, though his eyes were intense on her.

"Mama!" She suddenly heard Ella's cry as she ran and joined her. Prissy was running after her, a panicked expression on her face. "I've met Billy and look at what he gave me for my birthday!"

Scarlett looked at it, amused, though she would have very much preferred Ella stayed where she was. She was uneased with the presence of the man at her side.

"Oh, that's a lovely err… stone, Ella,"

"He said it was an emerald, like my eyes!" The little girl said happily.

"Quite a charmer, indeed," commented the masculine voice of Lord Fenton.

Ella's eyes widened as she finally took notice of him, her cheeks blushing as he smiled at her.

"Lord Richard Fenton, to serve you," He bowed comically. "And who are you, sweet one?"

That's when she finally found her voice back.

"Ella!" The little girl replied eagerly. "Ella Lorena Kennedy! And it's my birthday! Mama had prepared a party for me! Are you a friend of Uncle Rhett? Or Mama's"

"Ella, you shouldn't…"

"I am a friend of your Uncle Rhett, indeed. A birthday party, you say? Oh, then maybe I'll have to give you a gift."

Scarlett felt herself shiver with a dread that surprised her. It was in his eyes, something that was dangerous and dark. Something she did not trust, not one bit.

"You don't have to…"

"But I insist."

His tone was insistent, definite. There, she knew there would be no bargain, and she wondered where this all could lead to. If the price was enough to make her even consider it. Suddenly having him in front of her presented her with the reality of a revenge she had thought of (though in her mind, it had always been more of teaching a lesson), sometimes with passion, and it was all so very unsettling how now she found herself recoiling at the idea.

She still needed to distract that man, she could see that. But could he be persuaded? Could she make him fall in love with her? She knew at least he was attracted to her, and maybe that could be a starting point to influence him. No matter what, she knew it was better to keep a close eye on him, to be prepared at anything. Whether she decided to go through that idea or not.

She watched as Ella ripped the paper and squealed.

"A necklace!"

"As a gage of my admiration to two delectable ladies."

It was so very far from the chocolate and flowers they could have accepted without anything in return. And yet, she could see he would not let them refuse, and after all, he was European. Maybe it could be excusable, for he did not know the customs?

What was more troubling though was the fact it was no little girl's necklace. It was a woman's, and one that had certainly not been newly made. She met his eyes.

Could it be?

He only smiled in reply. She felt cold inside.

She cleared her throat, then turned to her daughter.

"And what do we say when someone offers you a gift?"

Ella grinned, then pronounced a very happy "thank you". Lord Fenton chuckled in reply.

"Well, I hope it would make you not forget me, young lady," He said, winking at her daughter. "Unfortunately I have to leave you..."

"Oh, no!" Ella exclaimed, her little mouth trembling a little with disappointment. "What about Uncle Rhett? Certainly, you could come with us to meet him!"

"Ella!" Scarlett scolded, bewildered.

"Cheer up, little girl," He smiled, his finger grazing Ella's chin with a teasing gesture that unsettled Scarlett. "I'm sure we'll meet again, you, your charming mother, and your Uncle Rhett."

Then, he nodded towards her, a charming smile on his too much charming face, and went away, as if he had not just proposed revenge on a man moments before.

"Ella, you should not have done that," Scarlett said more calmly. "A young lady like you shouldn't have invited a stranger like that."

Ella cocked her head.

"How so? Isn't he Uncle Rhett's friend?"

"Who was it, Mother?" Wade had finally joined them, the fishing rod still gripped in his tiny hands.

"A strange man," Her tone was emotionless, almost dead. She gripped the hands of the children and raised. "We're leaving, children."

"He said he was Uncle Rhett's friend!" Ella added.

Wade's eyes widened.

"A friend of Uncle Rhett?"

They talked some more, but she was not listening anymore. She called Prissy and led them back home, before insisting they stayed under the servant's supervision. She needed to go out, on her own. She needed to hit something. She tried to call Pansy, but was unable to find her. But then, maybe she was sick. She was often sick, these times. Scarlett worried. But then, as Pork told her she was resting, she found enough peace to continue on her project, going to the warehouse. If only to take back her horse left in there. She took her reticule and made her way on the servants' quarters of the stables, hoping to find someone to help her with the horse. But what was awaiting her was even more surprising. It was a gathering of servants, some not her own. Black people gathering around what seemed to be none other a very healthy and eloquent Pansy. Most horribly, it did not seem to be the first time it happened.

"There's no such thing as a good plantation. From the moment there are masters and slaves, there are problems on the way. Every plantation, whether they are Tara, Twelve Oaks, Mimosa, or Fairhill are the symbol of that. That's why if God really gives justice to all, it should be destroyed and erased for good."

She froze, her heart shattering.

"Get out. All of you," She found herself ordering with a cold voice.

They all looked at her with fear in their eyes, before scampering with haste. Only Pansy met her eyes, surprised to see her.

"You lied," Scarlett hissed as she took a step forward.

Pansy looked at her with a bewildered look.

"You weren't ready to hear this."

"Ready for what?" She snarled. "I thought you were my friend!"

"Do friends have to share the same ideas? To be exactly the same as you?" Pansy taunted. "I am not. I am not spoiled, nor vain. I never had the advantages you had, with your color of skin, rank, and money. Are all your friends paid, Scarlett? Then I'm sure they are no friends at all."

"Get out."

"Yes, I'm getting out! I'm out. I am more than a background character in your story, Scarlett O'Hara. I have a voice and…" She took a big breath of air, as if to give herself courage. "It's time it is heard."

The words were definite, and Scarlett found herself breathless and cold. A sudden despair after everything that happened overwhelmed her and she found herself talking venomously, the words stinging as she said it. All she wanted was to hurt as she felt hurt, and yet….

"Then go! I don't need you here, you and your insolent little tongue, and your lies, and your sneakiness! You're just a… a… a dumb negress!"

She hiccoughed, paling, and found herself waiting. Pansy blinked, and her eyes hardened.

"Thank you then for showing you're no better than anyone else. You're even worse."

Scarlett had the impression her world was crumbling down at her feet, and she couldn't do anything but watch as Pansy left the room, throwing the apron on the way.

She had lost her only ally, and that for words she did not believe in. At least not anymore, since the time she was a girl that had learned she had to show the way to the inferior people.

Inferior people, indeed. If it was so, why did she feel so little, then?

She took refuge in the warehouse, shooting to her heart's content, and screaming like a banshee until her voice failed her. Sometimes, she managed to reach the target at the heart, but she felt no satisfaction in that. Only her heart being torn apart and the regret gripping her guts.

When she finished, she joined the children for dinner, barely putting a bandage on her bruised palm, and then hurried them to bed, promising them the continuation of the story for the next night. After all, she said, and Wade nodded eagerly, Uncle Rhett was still not here, and how disappointed he would be to miss it!

But was it worth it, to continue pretending? She wondered.

As she put them to bed, Ella suddenly talked eagerly of the park, and the person they had met there. She froze on her gesture.

"He was so handsome, wasn't he, mama?"

"Don't be a fool, Ella!" Wade scowled, before crossing his arms. "I don't like that man."

Scarlett sighed, but Ella continued.

"Oh, but he said he was Uncle Rhett's friend! And he's a lord!"

"All lords aren't good men, my sweet Ella," Her mother said as she caressed her cheek. "I would prefer it if you don't talk to him again."

"You think he's a bad man?"

She wondered at it.

"He may be."

Ella seemed to want to protest, but then, begrudgingly, she nodded.

"Alright, Mama," She said, visibly disappointed.

Suddenly very weary, Scarlett kissed them goodnight, before tucking a last time the covers of each child. Then she returned to the dining room, hoping to appease her burdened mind.

But as she saw who was waiting for her, she decided maybe brandy was not for her that day.

"Scarlett, I need to talk to you."

He was here, in front of her. The love of her life, her husband, the one who had betrayed her so, made her believe there could be so much more, drugged her, and who now stood so calmly in front of her, as if nothing had happened. Not even a smell of alcohol on him. Nothing. Only his taunting eyes, and this scent, that made her treacherous heart want to leap and take refuge in his arms.

"I don't want to hear it." Her fists clenched from the pain of uttering these words. She felt anger at herself for the cracking of her voice. "I don't want to hear how you… found pleasure in other beds, how you drank yourself almost to death because of how painful it was to have me as your wife! How you play so easily with your own reputation, mine and that of the children, when you spent so much time lecturing me on this when Bonnie…"

He scowled.

"Don't you dare say her name! It's not the same thing!"

"How so?"

"By God, woman, can't you understand anything without it being said to you? There are lives at stake!"

"I understand very much, thank you. My children's lives are at stake. Their reputation, their future," She lowered her head, trying to hide the tears that threatened to leave her eyes. She continued, more softly. "They may not be your blood, but I thought they had your love."

"They do, Scarlett. You know they do."

Oh, why were his eyes glinting so?!

"You have such a way to show it! People are talking, and I've worked too hard for it to only go to waste!" She shook her head, before regaining her composure. She had enough of all of this, of all these games he seemed to play. "Do you know what my father told me, once? He said that land was the only thing in the world that amounts to anything, for it is the only thing that lasts."

"It is not the only thing that matters..."

"True enough. When I went back to Tara, I swore that I and my people would never go hungry again, that Tara will never be lost to us, even if I had to steal, beg or kill."

"A good wish, maybe, but…"

She shook her head once again, and stopped him by putting her hand between them.

"No. You never understood that. You never wanted to. And you keep proving it to me."

"Scarlett."

"Hush. Don't say anything now."

She looked at him, looked at that man she loved still, but who hurt her so. That man at that moment she wanted to hurt as much as she hurt, and she wanted to soothe as much as she wanted to be soothed.

Such conflicting feelings for something that were praised as the only thing that mattered in the world. Love.

Her lips lingered on his cheek, while she savored one moment the feeling of closeness between their bodies. So close, and yet so far. Skin touching, but the poison between them kept stinging and stinging.

"Whatever war you and I have against each other, don't put it on my children. If… If they suffer because of this, I shall destroy you. No matter how long it would take, I'll make sure you find no peace."

Yes, she could. She could gather the means to. She could even use Lord Fenton's way, lacking and untrue as she found it was.

"It is not me you should fight against."

"Then why do you make it so?"

They stared at each other, the words leaving a space between them that was aching to be filled.

"Such a fire in your eyes, such a… life," He whispered, his eyes lightening up strangely at this. His hand raised to meet her cheek, and Scarlett felt the warmth of it before it even reached her. She found herself recoiling, unsure by the sudden ardor, but he held her shoulders in a tight grip, forcing her to face him. "Why not? Maybe it's better like that… Yes…" He cleared his throat, but his eyes were still brazing on her. "You want a war, Scarlett? Fine, I'll agree with you until you understand, for I know you need to experience things before accepting it as it is. But for that, you better be prepared to fight."

She scowled, offended.

"Oh, I am. Don't ever doubt it."

"Good. Then you'll meet me at your little warehouse tomorrow afternoon. We'll see, then."

She blinked.

"You're daring me for a duel?"

"I'm daring you to let me train you. For now."

"And why would you do that?"

"Because I always believed it's better to fight on equal grounds."

She stared at him in disbelief.

"I don't believe you."

He released her, stepping back abruptly, his fists clenching and fiercely put in his pockets.

"Believe what you want, Scarlett. I never could stop you."

She shook her head, her eyes flaring.

"Don't do that to me, Rhett, don't act like you're some powerless, misunderstood man. You've never been that when it came to me. You just never tried enough when it mattered," Her voice broke a little, and she tried to regain her composure. "Goodnight, Rhett."

With that, she nodded at him, trying to meet his blank gaze with a defiant one, and reached her chambers.

She took down her clothes and changed on her own, feeling more keenly the loneliness of her situation. No, certainly, she could persuade Pansy to come back. Certainly, she would see she didn't mean any of it! Or with enough money….

_Are all your friends paid, Scarlett? Then I'm sure they are no friends at all!_

She shook her head. No, she would not cry. Not again. She filled her glass from her jug of water and drank it heavily.

The taste was sour on her lips and she cursed. Certainly, he had not dared…. Not again?

She felt dizzy suddenly and with panic, she reached her bed. For a moment, she wondered if at another moment of her life, one she was not so wary, she would have realized the effects, and explained it only on her own tiredness. Or maybe it was only so, and she was imagining it entirely. She could not think clearly.

She may have awakened once, maybe. Or maybe not. Her mind was fuzzy, but she thought she felt strong arms embracing her tightly, and the whisper of a kiss on her hair. And words, soft, sad, loving, and pleading, like a request for forgiveness. A forgiveness she wanted to ask in return.

What a sweet dream, she thought as darkness surrounded her yet again. A sweet dream…

…


	18. Chapter 18

Of all the places Rhett had expected Scarlett to go, the National Hotel was certainly the last. But then, he knew his wife, and he knew that as soon as she would hear where she was, she would jump on the opportunity to have a good little quarrel with her least favorite sister.

Thus the scene he was a witness to (which he thought was beginning to be a habit for him), without both women realizing he was there, one balcony away. They were certainly making quite a ruckus, and he was almost thankful that at least, the balconies were not set on the most crowded side.

“You’ve always had it better! You’ve always had everything! Now, it’s me that hold the power, it’s me you have to bend to! More so, it is me that will finally have the last word and I will take great pleasure seeing you weeping when I’ll benefit from it all!”

“God’s nightgown, Suellen, that’s Tara we’re talking about!”

“What does Tara mean to me? It had always been about you, you and you! It has never truly been mine! What had been mine, you had stolen from me!”

“You ungrateful little fool! Tara, not yours? Then what has fed you, your husband, and your children?”

“Ungrateful? You OWE me! For the life you stole from me. Frank was mine! He was my beau!”

“For the misery I saved you, you mean? DO you know why I did that? Do you really want to know that I knew if I let you marry him, you would have left us to die without regret as long as you lived comfortably?”

“I…”

“You can’t even say you wouldn’t have. Every day, when I asked you to help, you would whine and let others do your works, just because you deemed it degrading for you. Oh, but do you know what was really degrading? Do you want to know how it has been, being Frank Kennedy’s wife? Nursing his old rheumatisms, laying under his limp body as he took his pleasure?”

Rhett winced, bad memories coming to him, and a bitter taste that seemed a little like a very out-of-date jealousy in his mouth.

“Get out! It should have been my life!”

“Had your life not been happy? Do you regret your children?” He heard Scarlett taunt. “I regretted mine. Every day, for I did not love their fathers. And yet, now, they are the only ones that will never disappoint me…” She paused, and he leaned in, trying to hear more. “One thing you forgot, Suellen, is that Tara is not only me. It’s also Mother. It’s Pa…”

“Don’t talk to me about Tara! I hate it and I always will! It had always been yours, and never mine! I’ll take great pleasure in selling it, and live grandly, the life I was meant to!”

“What about your children? Your husband? Mammy?”

“Why would it matter? they’ll thank me for what I’m doing!”

“Is that so?” He heard her reply coldly. “Well, If you think so, then you are no better than I.”

“Get out!”

A few minutes, and furious steps later, the door closed with an angry bang, leaving Scarlett scowling and hissing.

As he looked through the peephole, he saw her freezing, before stepping towards Todd Smith who was waiting, whispering some words to him, her head turning one last moment at her sister’s door. He nodded.

Rhett clenched his fists and turned away, leaving when he was sure he would not cross them. 

He’d have to come back tomorrow. Suellen would be much too ruffled to hear his proposition, and it might come to Scarlett’s ears if he pushed too much. He had secured Carreen’s part, after all. He had time.

_“You never understood that. You never wanted to. And you keep proving it to me.”_

At least, she had a new puppy to do her bidding.

He settled in the bar and ordered a drink. Then took another He was about to order the third when someone interrupted him.

“Long time no see, friend.”

“Richard?” He turned towards the man, surprised, before smiling. “Well, it was said you would come, but I expected I would not be able to meet you before a few days, when you finally have the time to escape the attention of the old cats of Atlanta.”

The light brown hair had darkened somehow and seemed almost black with the amount of wax he had put into it. The years had got rid of the youthful bumps of his cheeks and hardened the lines of his jaw. But still, it was him.

“I’ve heard you married. I think I saw her on the way.”

“You’ve met Scarlett?”

“A gentleman always waits for an introduction,” He laughed, before asking to be served. “At least, I’m not such a fool not to wait until you introduce her to me.”

Rhett chuckled and took the glass from the waiter.

“That’s one fair Desdemona you found yourself bound to,” Richard continued, his eyes on his nails as he tried to get rid of some dirt on it. Yet there was a glint he did not like in it. “Alabaster skin, sweet face, and pretty mouth.”

He shook his head, amused.

“My wife is no Desdemona.”

“No, indeed. Her eyes are promising too many things. Beware, old friend, she might be snatched away from you!”

That trap was too vulgar for him to fall for. But then, he guessed he had this coming, with the last time he had met the man.

“By who?” He chuckled. “You?”

“That hurts, mate.”

“You can try all you want,” He snorted. “It is not my concerns who she consorts with.”

In fact, it could be rather useful, that people see another man trying to seduce her. It would prove he did not care.

And, if he was honest enough with himself, he was a little bit curious about how she might act, loving the attention as she did. Would she use it, like she seemed to do with Todd Smith? Or would there be more? Could he trust her to be faithful?

The insecurities, despite knowing she loved him, kept nagging him like the gadfly that tormented Io so. He needed her to be seen as mistrustful, as defiled. And yet, it hurt him to do so, to see that look in her eyes, and to think that maybe it would drive her away from him for good. And drive her to other arms, perhaps…

He cursed himself. He had always mocked Ashley for his indecisiveness, and yet he was in the same position, and about the same woman.

No, he had to trust her for that. And that was maybe the thing that was the most difficult to do, for he had been preventing himself to do so for so long.

He took another drink.

“So then you wouldn’t mind sharing?” Richard said, and in these dark eyes, lighter than his, there was a challenge.

He almost dropped it. But then, years of hiding were enough not to show anything. He took a sip, looking at him with an amused smile.

“In fact, I’m daring you to,” He replied. “Seduce her. Let’s see if you’re up to the test, and how these years changed you. I seem to remember a clumsy lord almost tripping on his feet when a girl blinked in his direction.”

He knew Richard. He remembered the little lordling, five years his junior, trying to follow his footsteps like a puppy as soon as he met him in London. He remembered all the parties he brought him to, and the little victories he had, that he could not help but brag in front of him. He was like a little brother trying to impress his older sibling, and Rhett had all but comforted him in it. He was fond of him, and that admiration he bestowed him was flattering. It was more than his own siblings had ever expressed to him, and in that time when his family seemed gone to him, it was comforting somehow.

Until Cassandra. The girl had been a bright little thing that had turned his head so. He spent a lot of money on her and treated her like a queen, though her eyes were quite wandering. She was a flirter, that one, but it was clear, at least to him, she never attached herself to anyone. She had not that honest innocence that Scarlett in her young days had, and that determination to get what she wanted (even if that determination was lost on poor hapless Mr. Wilkes). It was all just a game, and not even a game she found true pleasure at.

And then one day, she came to him, and her eyes were not so light anymore…

He shook his head, trying to get rid of the image.

No, it wasn’t relevant anymore. Whatever his part had been, it had been forgiven. When they had met again, the camaraderie was here again, with a little more competition this time, and there was also this time he had saved his life. Richard wouldn’t have done so if he hadn’t forgiven him. At least, he wanted to believe he had.

But can I really trust him? He thought. Certainly not. But then, knowing him, he failed to see him in a dangerous light. A little on edge, he might be, but he was a good fellow.

There was a hardness in Richard’s gaze that unsettled him a little, and he almost reconsidered. His teeth shone through tight lips, a little pointed at the corners.

“I certainly stepped up my game.”

“Then the bet is on.”

He gulped all his drink down. Richard chuckled.

“You’re still a goddamn heartless gambler, Rhett Butler!”

“And the bet is even more delightful when it has no value to me anymore.”

“Oh, really? Then I would have to make my own opinion about it.”

“Please, do. But I have to warn you,” He replied, leaning in as if to make a confidence. “There’s a reason why she is called the hardest heart in all Georgia.”

“Now, that just interests me even more. A national treasure, then?”

Oh, no. Scarlett would not fall for that. He was tempted to laugh. She would certainly be flattered, but then she was not one to fall for a rogue’s advances like that. She had dismissed his when they had been bestowed, so it was not for her to do the contrary with Richard. Especially when she was so determined to get her reputation back. She was stubborn, his Scarlett, when she had a goal in mind. And now was the case. Not even any thought of revenge could even drive her out of that.

And then, he could not believe Scarlett would cheat on him, when everything in her told him she loved him, that she was still mourning for their dear Bonnie. She was still stubbornly wearing black, and every day he could see on the cameo she put on her dress the image of their daughter.

...

And also when she was sleeping with his missing shirt on her bed. He smiled at the memory of that surprisingly pleasant discovery.

But Richard’s presence might also drive Todd Smith away, and that was quite another pleasant idea to Rhett. Watcher or not, there was always a time when a man might take a step a little too forward. At least, with Richard, it would be sure she would be offended.

“No less,” He jested, though his heart squeezed a little. “If you win, you’re free to get whatever thing you want from her. And me, in extenso.”

“And if I lose?”

“I’ve heard you have certain plans concerning lands in Clayton County. Give it up and give it to me. That would be my prize.”

Richard’s eyes glinted. Rhett was still a little perplexed at his interests in it, so far from Europe, but he guessed it was once again the competition between them that had done it for him, just like that time when he was blockading…

“Done,” Richard topped it. “But I do believe I have the better bargain.”

You have no idea, Rhett thought. But there was no way he could win.

They settled the deal and went their own way.

Rhett’s day was busy, and as he made all the visits he was bound to, he felt a sense of restlessness at the idea of being so far to the store and to home. But he knew what he had to do, just like he knew how many debts he had to collect from the bank. At least he felt at peace, knowing that at least he had spent the morning making it up to Ella and Wade for missing her party.

This was why he had always loved children. They bestowed their love and forgiveness easily, and when they trusted someone, it was blindly.

Wade was more reluctant, though, but then he guessed it was because he hadn’t appeared at the church, and he had heard everything. He felt ashamed by it, but then, he had not seen any other way. When the boy asked him to promise he would make it up to their mother, he said yes immediately. But that did not mean he could do so at the moment. He seemed about to say something else, and Rhett could see that Ella was nervous like she had been told a secret, but none of them seemed to be able to say so. He shrugged, hoping he might get the end of it by the end of the week.

As he left after his last visit, he was attacked in an alley, but then the poor lad seemed to have picked the wrong person to target that day.

It was only when he reached his buggy he saw his shirt was bleeding a little. He shrugged, then continued his way, passing in front of Belle’s sporting house.

He had severed his ties with the Madam, especially after discovering what she was doing with the orphanage. It had been foolish, that’s what he had told her when she had admitted to him. Foolish and immoral. It was the kind of scheme that could unsettle everything, and make her lose everything (and him in extenso if he continued to support her). He held it like a whip over her head, but then he knew there were too many people, _notorious_ people involved in this. Some he might try to use for his own interests, and that of his family. Others… that he preferred the farther away from them. And now that Scarlett was attempting to help the children of that house…

No, that did not bide well for him. She was attracting too much attention. He would not be surprised if the one that had pushed her was involved in all of this.

Just as he was about to continue his way, a sight make him stop. He blinked, unable to believe it at first. But when he did, he chuckled darkly.

The irony. The Honorable Mister Wilkes satisfying his baser needs in a whorehouse, and much more ironic, with his former mistress. He could see her waving at the man, before letting a shocked gasp at his sight. He could have laughed at it. In fact, he did just so. That insufferable man, who had dared put on high airs and questioned his intentions towards his wife. How could he even look at himself into a mirror, knowing that all his life, while having the perfect lady as a wife, he had been lusting over another and still did, and then, as it wasn’t enough, the poor gentleman was despaired to the point of paying for his pleasures?

The man seemed to see him, and he bowed his head in irony, at him and his former mistress, taking pleasure in seeing his old rival scram like a berated dog. He continued on his way with the buggy, until he finally reached the warehouse and entered.

Oh, he was no fool. He knew Scarlett had been plotting around, and somehow, that warehouse had been her refuge. Not with Ashley, no. He had also noticed that somehow Todd Smith seemed to enter it minutes after she did.

He had told her he didn’t mind her having an adventure, and he had meant it. After all, there were many meanings to the word, and some did not involve the idea of her with another man… He gritted his teeth. He could not bear it. He never really could, for all his talks saying so.

However now that he was here, he could see there were targets in here, and some had been used quite often, he had seen. He reassured himself. Todd Smith was a watcher, he knew that, not a seducer. If a step was taken, it would not be from him, but her. And from the amount of shots, it was certainly not in her mind.

But then, there was a more mortifying matter, more painful than the thought of never getting her heart or losing it. It was of losing her entirely. In so many moments, he could have, without him able to do anything about it. He still remembered her fall down the stairs, and the excruciating sound of her little body on the ground, and the sight of her pale skin, and the blood that was glinting on his hands. He still remembered the death of Bonnie, and of Melanie Wilkes, making him feel keenly he was losing everything that ever mattered to him, every little thing he had thought secure and safe. Leaving was easy when he could think Scarlett would be waiting for him, alive, and that he would be far enough not to worry.

But he found now it wasn't enough. He remembered how she had fainted when he had left her. He remembered when that man pushed her down, leaving her defenseless against a hungry tigress. He had fought then, tried to get her back. But then, there was also this man, this culprit, he couldn’t bear to let go.

He looked at his watch and sighed.

With the chaos, he could not catch him, and when he finally joined Scarlett, another had done what he should have. He was practical enough to be thankful for that, but his pride was quite wounded he hadn’t been the one to do so. Still, there was Scarlett, in his arms, in shock. But warm, safe, and alive.

Oh, couldn’t she be there, already? What was taking her so long? She was supposed to be back from the store long ago!

Or maybe it was him that was too impatient. He looked once again at his watch. Yes, she was indeed late.

He paced once more, and was about to seek her out himself, when finally she entered, closing the door behind her with a weary sigh.

_“O my soul’s joy! If after every tempest come such calms, may the winds blow till they have wakened death?”_

She jumped at this intervention, and looked around her, her eyes wide like a frightened cat’s. He could almost see her hair raising as if she were. She blinked a little, before finally spotting him.

“Death? Death? Why are you talking of death?”

“It was a quote, my dear, to tell you how happy I am to see you.”

He could not help it though. A smile came to his face, and he knew it wasn’t a genuine one. He had been so used on using it, afraid of showing the words he said were true. Even now, there was still that fear in his heart like a reflex he could not shake off.

She huffed.

“Happy, indeed!” She scowled, stomping her foot. “Fiddle-dee-dee, you gave me such a fright, lurking in the corners like that!”

“It seems I’m not the only one lurking in dark corners,” He chuckled. There, he could not help it. The smile turned malicious. “You’ll have to guess who I’ve seen…”

He stopped.

She was shaking.

“Scarlett…” He took a step closer and turned her to him, his hand on her cheek to urge her to look at him. “What happened?”

She shook her head, and he could see the tears that were threatening to fall on her cheeks.

“I can’t bear to see doors closed at my face; I can’t bear it!”

“I’m glad you share that opinion, my dear. “

Her eyes sent daggers at him, and he took pleasure in dodging them.

“Oh, of course, you take it for you! But it’s not, it’s not!”

“Tell me, then, what bothers you?”

She shook her head, her hands firmly gripped at her sides as she tried to regain her breathing.

Then her shoulders fell as if she was defeated. He did not like that. He did not like that at all.

“Rhett,” She said, weary. “Do my words always have to bite me in the neck?”

“Well, you throw them swiftly, dear, they tend to act like boomerangs.”

“It doesn’t mean I mean them!” She exclaimed, her eyes wide and vulnerable like those of a child. “These words… I’ve heard them so many times, and I’ve said them…. And I thought they were like all the other words, not the pleasantest, maybe, but then everyone said them and it seemed… normal. Why now is it not? Or maybe before they weren’t, and I just couldn’t see it?”

“No, you didn’t. You generally don’t. But no matter how many times they had been said, the hurt is still the same.”

“I guess so.”

“Who did you hurt this time, darling? What words did you use?” He reached out for her, his hand caressing her cheek. “Scarlett…”

She recoiled with all the defiance of an offended goddess.

“Oh, don’t act as if you care! Not now!”

His hands clenched in frustration, and he put them in his pockets.

“Would it surprise you if I say I do?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me if you lie to me.”

“Fair enough. Though I still have some questions I need answers to.”

“As if you’d answer mine.”

He chuckled.

“I’ll certainly try. But it’s irrelevant. You certainly do have strange frequentations, my dear.”

She looked at him with a strange, almost amused glint in her feline eyes.

“Be cautious, my love,” She said with a teasing, but cold smile. “One might almost think you really care.”

“I might. But I’m serious. Meeting this man may be dangerous, Scarlett.”

“Everyone is dangerous at one moment in their life. Why him in particular?” She snorted in an unladylike way that would have made her blush years ago, and he felt amused by that. “Why, he looks like a lamb!”

He crossed his arms, eyeing her.

“A lamb, he maybe is at first. But he is not to be trifled with. Nor are his friends.”

Too late for that… Her eyes said. He blinked. Could it be? He had had his suspicions, well, more than suspicions, but then… he had wanted to deny it in his will to believe in her safety and cluelessness, but he had known already, hadn’t he? It was the only thing that made sense, more than her having an affair. It would explain why Todd Smith seemed to always be around her, why she had confronted Suellen over selling her part of Tara. She knew more than he had thought at first. And somehow, she was involved in Todd’s scheme more than he would have wanted her to be.

He almost cursed.

“Rhett…”

His eyes snapped at her and softened when he saw she was a little bit afraid of him. It gave him more determination somehow.

“Yes, my dear?”

She bit her lip. “Would you mind helping me loosening my corset?

His eyes widened a little, but he nodded, his heart beating with the anticipation of getting that close to her. She was alive, she was conscious, and how she looked at him so!

“There’s blood on your shirt.” Her eyes widened.

She looked at him with bright eyes, begging eyes, and he was tempted to give in to her plead. He felt almost clumsy when he loosened the laces, his fingers grazing the thin shirt underneath. She shivered as he touched her.

How touch-starved was she? He wondered painfully. How touch-starved was he? The image of her in his arms, unconscious as he embraced her, came to his mind. It was wrong, he knew that. Not that his gestures were sexually inappropriate. It made him ashamed nonetheless, remembering that unfortunate night when he had snapped, and took more than he should have. And yet... that night, she gave herself to him, fully, returning every caress, every word...

His hands stayed a little while on her as he recalled the recent events.

The first night he had used the draught doctor Meade gave him, he had been so desperate to see her, to see if she was alright, safe, _alive_ in his arms.

The other night, the fear had not left him, especially when he had seen her, so cold and angry.

He could not get rid of the image of her rolling down till her body reached the scene, nor the one of her falling down the stairs.

In both cases, he had been hopeless. In both cases, she almost died in front of him.

He could not bear that. He would not allow this to happen again.

He was just a man, after all.

A _very_ pathetic man. He almost swore once again.

It felt harder and harder to resist. But he had to. He sent her a blank look, his words smooth as silk.

“Oh. Little wounds. Sometimes you get some when you play with tigers. What about yours, darling? I see your hands are quite bruised too. Though I wonder which tiger you fought, this time.”

Her eyes narrowed. She was about to retort when he pushed her lightly and put the gun in her hand.

“Here. Show me what your skills are.”

Please, may her little training by herself have some effect….

Her grip on the gun tightened as she aimed at the target. He went closer and tried to rectify her posture. She stiffened as his hands touched her shoulders and spine to straighten her before it went to her own to ease the painful grip on the gun. Her hands trembled slightly as he did so, and he wondered if she felt the heat like he did, and these sparks coming between them.

“You should be cautious,” He said softly. “People may talk.”

Her eyes hardened.

“Whatever they are saying…”

She shot straight, and it almost went to the second ring.

He laughed, and the relief was almost ringing in it.

“People are not saying anything yet. But I have eyes. The lad is quite smitten with you, my dear. He almost follows you everywhere like a puppy.”

“You’re insufferable,” She answered him lightly “But then, Todd is a nice man. Blond, clear eyes.”

Her eyes were teasing but attentive as they were fixed on him. He could see clearly their intent.

He shook his head, amused as he took the gun again to prepare it, before giving it back. She aimed once more and he went closer, the sweet scent of rosewater and lilacs, and the feeling of her warmth coming to tease his senses.

“You always liked glitter more than gold.”

She went still, aimed.

“What about you Rhett? If you loved gold more than glitter, you would have never loved me. And if you wanted to show me gold was better, the house we live in would never have been built.”

This time it went straight in the middle.

He was taken aback. She turned towards him, fire in her eyes.

“Melly was gold. Maybe it would have been better for you to love her.”

Now, this was too much. Especially for her.

“You sell yourself cheap.” His tone was shorter, sharper than he had intended.

“Are you calling me a whore?” She hissed.

“No!” He scowled. “By God, Scarlett, I’m trying to say you’re worth so much more!”

“At least a little bit more,” He could not help but add, but this time, his tone was lighter. However, he almost cursed himself for that part. What was it that each time he wanted to tell her the truth, or something that might be pleasing to her ears, he could not help but add something that might unsettle it all?

She did not seem to pay attention to that part though. He was surprised, but also a bit disappointed for it would have caused quite an amusing ruckus years ago.

“Then why don’t you just say so?”

And why now? Her eyes said.

Isn’t it obvious? He wanted to answer her.

He was still uneasy about these truthful moments, moments he could not laugh it off easily. But then, looking into her bright eyes, hearing the simple tone of her voice, and feeling the relieving warmth of her body... he knew honesty would be the best way.

“I guess I should.”

She stared at him, then hmphed.

“Not that I would trust it is the truth.”

He could not help the smirk on his face.

“That, you will, my dear. You never refused a compliment.”

“Perhaps I ought to. You never did compliment me without asking something in return.”

“True enough.” I was asking for your love, he thought. I wanted to buy it, to get it like a prize that I deserved for all my work. And you wouldn’t give it to me, and I wanted to hate you for that. I did hate you for that. But my hate was never too far from my love.

And then love was not something one could buy, he was realizing that. Just like trust, he had to build it, and sometimes he did not know how to start, he who had learned it was better not to believe in anyone else but himself.

And now, he needed to trust her to come to him at the right time. He wanted to. But the worst in all of that is that she had to mistrust him, openly and directly, for doing so meant she would be safe, and others would not try to use her and the children to get at him.

Oh, if only she was better at hiding! Why was it that each time there was danger, she was on the way?

She had kissed him, and then he knew he would never be free. He had to find this man and kill him. He had to distract the attention of his opponents from his wife.

And then, when all would be over, they would leave. Europe would be great at this time of the year. It might be a new opportunity. He so wished to take Scarlett to Paris. To show her all the places he had seen, and see her eyes brighten at all the marvels she would discover. It would be a new start, for them all.

Wade and Ella would follow them, and they might learn a lot from this travel as well. A time away from the society of Atlanta might be profitable for them, and they may be able to return with an almost clean board. If they ever returned.

Maybe they could find their way elsewhere. He and Scarlett were after all not people that settled, and she would realize it soon enough. When she would reach her objectives, soon it would be a bore to her. He could see it already.

They continued for a little while, then he led her home and went to organize his files in his room. As he was about to join the nursery, he stopped. Scarlett was here, talking with Wade. He could see the back of her as she knelt in front of the boy.

“Where is Pansy, Mother?”

“She… she is unwell, Wade. But she’ll be alright. She’ll be back soon, I swear it to you.”

“Would you read it to me?”

“Sweet-heart, you don’t have to do that for me to have interest in you!” She said fondly. “I know you have certainly finished it already."

“I like hearing your voice when you read to me.”

“Then, we shall read another one together.”

“What about the three Musketeers?”

“Alright for the three Mousekeepers.”

He chuckled softly, and he heard Wade’s laugh echoing in the room. It was even more of a delight when Scarlett joined him.

Wade almost invited him when he left the room to look for the book. But he declined it, and gestured him to keep silent. He wanted to see these peaceful moments, when Scarlett wasn’t so wary. He needed to keep in mind the serenity on her face, the liveliness of it all. It was for that he was fighting, after all. He said nothing else when Wade returned with the book, and was content to stay behind that door. He listened to it all, a wistful smile on his face, wishing he could actually join them and rest his head on her lap as she read. Now was not the time, though. But soon… Yes, soon.

Dinner was served, and indeed, there was still no trace of their other servant. He looked at Scarlett closely, and it surprised him to see she seemed quite upset by it.

After dinner, he was the one to lead all his little family back into the study, Scarlett eyeing him with irritation as he said:

“Well, I’m in the mood for some story. Aren’t you, children?”

“Yes!” Ella cried eagerly. “Oh, mama, continue, please !”

When Wade joined her, Rhett couldn’t help the triumphant glance towards Scarlett, for she knew she had lost. No, she would not hide from him tonight, she would continue what they had begun.

She huffed at him, but when she turned to her children, her smile was soft, and he wanted to kiss her for that.

Her talent for telling a story had certainly improved. But still, he could see she was still inspiring herself to what had happened to her, and what was happening. Her imagination had always been too bound to her own reality for her to step back too far from it. All the more, he was glad of it, for it gave him insights on what she felt, and how she had lived certain situations. He found he was discovering more than he had even realized at the moment.

He stopped in his thoughts, realizing he had missed some parts of the story, after the recalling of the other events, and she had noticed it.

He cleared his throat and encouraged her to continue, telling her he had understood that after Robert and Solene helped Mary to get back into the ship, they found an island and settled in for the night.

Scarlett blinked at his answer, visibly surprised he had managed to catch these elements, and he looked at her with an innocent smile.

“How was it called, Mother?” Wade intervened, unwillingly interrupting their duel.

“Err… Wardes. Yes, Wardes. But then, when they reached the island, Robert decided it was no adventure enough for him, so he left. Even when she asked him to stay.”

Her eyes teased Rhett so, and yet there was still a little bit of restrained bitterness at this.

“And I believe he regretted that,” He commented softly. “After some time.”

“Oh, no, he didn’t,” Scarlett scoffed. “He even managed to steal a kiss from her!”

“He stole a kiss?” That was too much for the little girl’s romantic conceptions, and he chuckled when she blushed, and almost swooned at the idea.

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Ella, don’t be such a ninny! Ella? Ella??”

But the little girl did not answer, her eyes in the vague, and Scarlett sighed. Wade seemed also a little uneasy, the tip of his ears growing red, and then Rhett remembered, with some twisted amusement he had been the one, in fact, who had stopped his mother from succumbing to his attentions. Maybe he still remembered some bits of it.

“Well, then, Robert left, and Solene was a little angry.”

“A little…?” Rhett teased.

“A lot,” She retorted. “But then she had better things to think about. Like the survival of her friend.”

Ouch. Touché.

“Were they lost, mama?” Ella finally managed to ask, though there was still red on her cheeks.

“They were, my sweet,” She said. “And there was one time when… Solene thought they would not manage. But then there was Mary, and she had to be strong for her.”

And somehow, it made him love her more.

“They found a cavern, but it was so dark and there were such strange noises they were afraid they might get attacked unaware. So Solene decided to throw the diamond at her feet to have some light. And when it finally happened, they found out their fears were unjustified. The cavern was more welcoming than she had thought, and the strange noises were in fact because of the source of clear water at the back of it, alimented by a cascade."

“Oh, I’m so relieved for her!” Ella exclaimed joyfully. “For them both!”

“They will not stay always in that cave, will they, Mother?” Wade asked, a frown on his face.

“Else, they might grow like old ermits,” Rhett added mischievously. “Or worse… Old maids!”

She ignored his jap, but he could see the tease had made her eyes greener.

“Oh, no, darling, they will not. In fact, on the second day, they met a peacock who came to pay a visit to them. Soon, they began to talk, and he told them he was a prince that had been the victim of sorcery.”

“Oh!” Ella reacted. “How romantic!”

Scarlett chuckled, but seemed insistent on not looking at him, so he thought it was a way to make him react. Which one could be linked to a peacock? He wondered, amused. Visibly, she wanted to make him jealous.

“It seems so, my sweet.”

“Oh, but princes are so overrated,” Wade intervened, crossing his arms, a stubborn pout on his face.

Rhett laughed and ruffled his hair.

“Good lad. Indeed, there are already too many princes and princesses in this story.”

“But he was there, at least,” Scarlett quipped. “And… he said things… about Robert that Solene did not dare to believe. And he asked them to be friends.”

Oh, now, he was more than intrigued.

But then, disappointedly, Scarlett seemed to think she had told more than she wanted, and she continued. But not as he wanted her to.

“’Oh, I so wish for something to be true and easy, for once!” Solene said to the peacock. She was wary and desperate for friends. But she knew the peacock would only give her something fake, that wouldn’t make her happy in the end.”

He would let this pass. For once.

The peacock must be Todd, he thought, and it somehow relieved him of a burden he had wanted to ignore. Even in this story, she was not impressed by him.

He wanted to reach out to her, to make her see that he too, yearned for something true, something easy. He wanted peace, with her, and the children. He wanted to nestle under the sunlight of their love and provide them tenderness and protection in return.

Oh, he so yearned the day when they would just shake it off and say it was another one of their adventures.

But it wasn’t now. He kept his hand to himself, and looked at her, hoping she might understand the message he was sending her with his eyes.

She did not seem to. Instead, there was a strange look in her eyes, almost sorrowful.

“'Or maybe I had it, and I did not see it,’ Solene finally said. ‘I remember once, I was friend with a girl. Or I think that I was. I did not think of it at the time, for she was a maid and I a princess, but then she made me realize… she made me realize…”

“What, Mother?” Wade asked, a worried look on his face.

Scarlett shook her head.

“’She made me realize that no matter what she and I were, we were all with flesh and bones, and would die in the end,’ Solene said. Melanie expressed curiosity at this, and asked Solene if they were still friends again. This is what she answered:

“’ One day I went angry and felt lost. One day I cursed the world and the people around me. I cursed her. There, she turned away from me and stopped being a handmaid to me. And when I tried to apologize, when I asked her to come back, she told me she would not be bought like that, not like… Oh, she just said she would not be bought. And thus, this door was closed to me.’”

“That’s a sad story,” Ella commented. “I hope Solene and that friend of hers manage to find their way back to each other.”

“I hope so too, my sweet,” She paused, then sighed. “’Thus, children, the importance of being nice, and thinking before talking. You might never know how much hurt it can bring to people.”

“That’s a good lesson, Scarlett, and I think we can all learn from this,” He took amusement on her bewildered eyes, and he guessed it showed, for she crossed her arms and her mouth formed a delicious little pout, accentuated with the delicate quirk of her brows.

She huffed, then after he embraced the children goodnight, she took them to Prissy. Where was Pansy, he didn’t know. But he was suspecting she had done something to upset Scarlett. It would actually quite make sense if she was the one she had hurt, now that he thought of it. But then, it did not matter. It had no impact on his plans. What mattered more though was that it had an impact on Scarlett.

He served them both brandy, hesitating a little as he dropped the last drop in her glass, and waited for her to return.

He saw her looking at the glasses warily, but then he attracted her attention to the game, and it began.

He let her win the first time, to relax her. Then the game hardened, and he realized he better paid attention to it. He hadn’t been lying when he said she was learning. Somehow, it made him uneasy she was, for it meant she was losing that predictability he was counting on.

Her gaze not leaving him, she took a glass and drank it like the other times, before putting it back on the trail. He said nothing, took his eyes back on the game. Silently, they continued. He won once, she did another. And him once again. He frowned, before taking his glass.

Her eyes glinted as he drank, and he wondered what she could be up to. There were that dimples on her cheeks. She had some game, and she had forgotten to hide herself. She had put down her guards, and it made him want to kiss her.

But too quickly, the moment passed, and she shook her head coquettishly, a tiny smile on her lips.

They continued to play a little more, and he looked at her reactions carefully, waiting. Until, finally, she raised her eyes on him and dropped her cards, folding it with a sigh.

“Oh, I feel so tired, now.”

The draught might have taken effect. Good. He didn’t feel quite so good as well. But then, with the dose she had, it might be even worse for her;

“Do you want me to help you to get into bed?”

She scowled.

“I am well enough to go into bed by myself, thank you! My, what is it with you, it’s almost like you want to get into bed with me!”

He chuckled willfully.

“That’s not out of the question.”

“Oh, you insufferable man!” She chided as she raised and left the room and he followed. “Well, you did tell me to keep my lonely bed, so I intend to keep it. I won’t let you do your…” He bit his lips with amusement when she stumbled over the words, and a blush adorned her cheeks. She was always quite prude when it came to saying this, but most of all, he could see she was jealous, and somehow it pleased him. “whatever you do with the other women that easily. I’m not an easy woman.”

“You never were,” He chuckled lightly. “But one day, sooner than you think, you will. By the end of the week, or maybe more so at the beginning of the new. You will let me get into your bed willingly, and I’m sure it will be with much pleasure. You will be easy on me.”

She huffed as she finally reached the stairs and put a shaking hand on the rail. There was something theatrical in the way she acted, but then he shook it off as an attempt to keep her dignity.

“You are so sure of yourself it irks me,” She declared, with her head raised high. “I’m getting to bed. Alone.”

She almost missed one step, and he laughed when she rejected his help. She was always so stubborn, even with the medicine taking effect. He himself felt a bit exhausted, but then, he had had a long day.

He followed to make sure she did not fall and let her enter her rooms. He felt the lack of her presence in his sight, the worry creeping in irrationally, he knew that, but that much clinging.

He waited until he felt sure she would be totally asleep, then entered.

She laid peacefully on her enormous bed now, her legs almost out of it and her arm under her pillow, and he wondered if it was clenched even when asleep. He went closer and settled her more comfortably under the covers. She did not stir, but he noted her body was still a little stiff. It was the beginning, he thought, and maybe she was a little bit conscious. It had happened last night, but she had slept all the same, and soundly. He did not dare to imagine what she would think, what she would do if she knew. He was already ashamed of himself. But then, it was the only way to be sure she would not leave by the night. The only way he could be sure she was safe at that time.

He settled himself at her side, his body facing hers, and looked at her. Oh, if only she could be that peaceful with him! But it wasn’t to be. Not for the moment. He’d have to bid his time.

He went closer and gathered her in his arms, his right, rough hand caressing her cheek lightly. The skin was supple and soft as ever, and he was tempted to kiss it.

“ _O, beware, my lord of jealousy; it is the green-ey’d monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on_. Scarlett…” He hummed, burying his nose in the luxury of her straight, dark hair. It was soothing, somehow, to talk to her unconscious form like that. He could imagine she was listening to him, and for once understanding him completely. “Though not a monster, no Desdemona, you are my lovely green-eyed demon, which is fine by me, for I’m the goddamn devil that cannot let you go, and that intends on trapping you every night so you can’t leave astray and be gone forever.”

Softly, he toyed with the end of it, and gathered it in a thick rope he laid across his neck. It was the bound that tied him to her, he had thought the first time he had done that, on their wedding night. The remembrance that the woman by his side was his, and he would not let her escape this time. But also, in his most cynical moment, that she had tied him up, him, the man that never thought of marrying, thinking it was only a masquerade with no fun at all to be found.

He shuddered. He had no other choices, then, he did not want to lose her to another. And maybe, maybe, he had thought, maybe with his love alone, soon followed by hers, it would not be that dreary.

But he did not get that love. At least not when he so despairingly expected it.

One thing hadn’t changed though.

He did not want to lose her at all.

“I wish I didn’t have to do that. I wish you could just let me in, you could let me soothe your pains and doubts, just like I wish you would soothe mine. I wish I could let you. What are the words, my sweet? _I love thee! And when I love thee not Chaos is come again_. For when I think, and I want to think I do not love you anymore, that you’re not in my blood anymore, my life is indeed chaotic, and I just can’t help but crawling back to you again, my heart on my sleeves, hoping you might feel the same!”

He kissed her hand, grazed each nail with his lips, and it almost seemed like it trembled. Or was he the one shaking? He didn’t quite know. His mind was quite fuzzy, and his sight almost blurry. He so wanted to sleep, and he knew it had been a long time since the last he had managed to get it.

He sighed.

“Sheathe your claws, my little cat. Can’t you see it is for you that I do that? For us? Can’t you see how I love you madly? Oh, I wish I could tell you everything, I wish I didn’t have to hide so, and to give you so much pain. I wish it were easier to explain to you while you’re awake, to embrace you freely, without having to use such despicable means. I am not a good man, my love, and I am weak. I need your comfort, but I can’t bear to ask it. I wish I could trust you, but years of keeping from doing so are hard to erase….

“I’m a coward when it comes to you, my love, but the coward that means to fight for you, and for that land you love so much. And darling! it’s your eyes, they betray you too much, and the others around us would know that. They would see that you are my weakest point… they already did, damn me for being that obvious... Why had they understood it, and not you? I wouldn’t bear seeing another attempt on your life, not if I can help it. Hate me if you will… distrust me, betray me if you must, but… I’ll keep you safe. No matter what... And you’ll forgive me… I know you will. My darling… Won’t you meet me halfway? Will you be waiting for me in the end? I’m willing to trust that you will this time, that you love me enough... Oh, I’ll do anything if you do…”

As he talked, it was beginning to be harder and harder to fight it.

Defeated, he shrugged it off. What harm could it do, to take a little nap with her? After all, he would be gone before she awakened… She was always a sound sleeper despite her nightmares, his Scarlett…

He fell asleep, his arms tightening comfortably around his wife.

His eyes closed, and when they did so, others opened, bewildered and distressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, yes, Rhett is a little too fond of Othello, and that won't help him that much with Scarlett. Any thought?  
> I still don't own these works, though.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your support! I really appreciate it, and love you all.  
> I hope you will like this chapter.

Scarlett stayed still a long time, not even daring to breathe. In her mind rang many words, and around her, his arms were tight, and strong, and too hot…

“Great balls of fire !!” She cursed loudly as she slipped from his embrace, jumping from the bed.

She began pacing feverously, remembering the previous events.

Oh, how obvious it had been, when he had handled her the drink! He was really thinking her a great fool, for falling for the same trap again and again! But not now, she had thought. It would not happen again.

She had thus played his game, and waited her time, the moment when he would let down his guard.

And when he did, she had turned quietly the platter where he had put the glasses on.

How satisfied she had felt, when he took the wrong glass, and she was surprised by how easy it had been, to fool him. Maybe he had underestimated her. Or maybe he was just tired. Or an effect of old age. Who cared? For once, she felt she had the advantage against him.

But then, it did not work immediately, as it had with her. And she remembered Mrs. Meade’s words, telling her how many drops could be useful “to have quiet time”.

Funny how the old woman had been so keen on thinking of her a beaten woman. She wondered what might have made her thought so, and when she spontaneous protested it wasn’t so, the woman had patted her hand with pity and slipped a sleeping draught in her reticule.

He certainly had taken his sweet time. So in the end, seeing no effect and as he seemed unsettled by her lack of reaction, she had settled on playing her part.

She had waited on her bed then, her hand, under the pillow, gripping a paper-knife as she imagined what would happen. In her mind, he would go to her, take her into his arms and act so scandalously, and she would scare him, showing him she would not be such an easy woman. He would look at her with these dark pools of his, but she would not look down, he would see she was not one to trifle with and she’d lean in and then… and then…! And then he’d make passionate love to her till the morning…

She paused, the blush on her face growing as she felt like a young girl mooning over her first beau. The images came to her, vivid and vigorous, with a heat so intense she felt herself melting. She could almost see, feel his muscles, well-developed and strong, so strong and virile and powerful, moving in front of her, as he…

“Roarrrrr….”

She yelped and jumped, surprised like a frightened cat. Her heart stopped for a few painful seconds, before drumming with a regained intensity that made her cheeks burn. Her eyes turned towards Rhett, who had turned in his sleep, his mouth opened enough to let out a loud snore.

She scowled and stomped her foot on the ground.

“God’s nightgown!” She swore. “What’s with you roaring like a lion? Do you believe yourself the king of the animals, even in your sleep?”

She paused, considering. Her eyes went to the ceiling, though she could not see the rich and ostentatious carvings.

“King… Rhett King Butler. Well, that wouldn’t surprise me it is that. You’re conceited enough to have King as your middle name.”

She shook her head, trying to resume the course of her thoughts. By God, he was right, she really needed to focus. But then, then! Yes, he had taken her into his arms, and she was about to do as she had planned. But then he had talked, and she was fairly sure he had quoted some infamous nonsense again, and with something that looked a little too much like self-pity. She had almost rolled her eyes at that moment…

Until the world “love” was uttered, and she began to pay attention.

“You love me…” She whispered it, as if uttering it would make the matter more concrete, palpable to her. Then, as the realization settled in her mind, a smile came to her face and her eyes brightened. There, she could not keep it to herself. "You love me!”

With a joyful laugh, she let herself fall back on the bed, at his side. Her eyes glittered with love and tenderness, and at that moment, there was nothing she wished more than to see him open his eyes.

How much of the drug had he put in the glass anyway?

“You know what my mother said, when I was caught doing some mischief and it backfired at me? ‘Tel est pris qui croyait prendre’. Such is taken who thought would take. I know it might surprise you that I know such a thing. And I intend to surprise you even more.”

She caressed his cheek, marveling at its smoothness.

“Well, my darling, you’re certainly not as shrewd as you think you are, though one cannot deny your cunningness. Or maybe it’s because you’re older now. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of your old rheumatisms and slowly deluded mind,” She chuckled, and he seemed to grumble in his sleep. “Oh, don’t scowl at me like that. You’re no old man. But you must be so tired, my love… It seems things have been getting out of your attention lately. But I don’t care. You are my man, hard, cunning, mocking, and passionate, and while I absolutely hate when you’re being willingly obscure, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

She pouted, considering his beloved face, the roots of dark hair that had near the temples turned a bit to grey, the closed eyes, still very much alive under the lids, the strong nose, the neat mustache above such indecent lips…

“But don’t play the martyr on me. I would not tolerate that. I will not just wait for you. I intend to do better than that,” His hand in hers, she squeezed it, then kissed it with fervor. Her lids fluttered as she leaned in, tempted. But then, as she felt the hint of its softness, her heart squeezed a little too hard, and she refrained a cry she buried against his chest. On her forehead, she felt his pulse, so placid, so calm.

What was it in this man, that made her feel so very defiant like a wildcat, and then coward like a mouse when they were that close?

She was tempted to laugh and cry at the same time.

“You told me you wanted me to stop fighting, to let you fight for me. That you wanted to pet me. But can’t you see, my love? I am no pet nor child, even if sometimes I feel like it when I’m with you. But that won’t do. I want you to have me as your equal. As your woman. You ask a lot of me, it’s only fair then. I want to fight your fights, by your side. I don’t want to be waiting like some lady in distress. You told me once I wasn’t a lady, and you were right by that. And you know who was right about me, though you might not like it? Ashley. Ashley told me I would want all of a man, body, heart, and soul. The opposite is true. I want you to want all of me, body, heart, and soul. I want you to give me your heart, properly this time, because I already gave you mine, and it’s waiting for you to claim. I want to know your thoughts, even if for now you intend on keeping them. And if it has to end with me alongside you, a rope on both our necks, so be it. It’d be better than to be at the backside, watching.”

She sighed contently, pressing herself against his chest, marveling at the beatings of his heart.

“It was me, then…” She wondered once again, with a happy laugh. “Oh, the devil you are, to have laughed at my expanse so! What did the soothsayer say, again? Lower your weapons and I’ll lower mine. Be true to me and I’ll be true to you. But I see I will have to prove it to you then, that I can fight for you just as you can fight for me. I want to prove I am worthy of you, darling, and I want to prove it without you having to help me.”

She raised her head and kissed his forehead, before leaning hers on his. She closed her eyes, a satisfied smile on her lips.

“You and I, we will be so great, together… I see that.”

She hummed and let herself count the quiet rhythm of his breathing, leading her to a peaceful sleep, certainly the most peaceful she had for a long time.

When she awakened, he was gone. Only stayed on her bed the hints of his scent, cigars and leather, intoxicating and tender. She lingered a bit to savor it, before raising, a stubborn pout on her face.

He wanted to play that game? Well, fine. _Fine_.

She considered her situation, then settled on her next move.

Of course, she would need to cancel it all. Rhett was on her side, after all. With him as an ally, what could she fear?

India would be waiting for her tomorrow at Uncle Henry’s. She had met her at Mrs. Meade and suggested the meeting. At the moment, she had thought it would be better if she could just take the act for herself, and India had been too happy to let her, afraid as she was with new threats that had been sent her way. Whether it was from Rhett or others, she would not say.

But now, maybe she, Scarlett, could be the one to offer it to her husband.

Would Rhett be proud of her for securing it? She certainly hoped it would be the case.

But then, there was the matter of Todd and his group, and there she knew she had to find a way out of this. This would certainly not please him very much. She was a bit unsure about Patrick and Olsen’s reactions. But then, now, Patrick had a debt with her, and she intended to use it.

Humming, she prepared herself and scowled when she failed to lace herself as she wanted to. Frustrated, she settled on a simpler dress, that she could wear more easily.

The children were already gone, Wade at school, and Ella certainly at the park with Prissy and she was disappointed at sleeping for so long. Why, she realized with surprise, it was almost the beginning of the afternoon!

But then, it seemed, like Rhett, she had had a lot of sleep to catch up.

She sighed, but continued her way, so excited she forgot to eat.

She took the buggy and went to the store, smiling wide, and wider when she finally met her manager, who was scowling at the counter.

“They’re here, Ma’am. _Again_.”

He had grumbled yesterday when Patrick had arrived, and she presented him as a new employee. And even more when Hugh Olsen had joined them.

They needed to meet, after all. And she did not want them to be at the warehouse, unsure at which time Rhett would arrive. They had settled to meet the day after, then, at the store. 

She sighed. “The auction will be over soon, Hugh. I told you why it was better to prepare it there.”

“Still, Mrs. Butler. I don’t know these men. Well, John is a good lad, but the other… He’s good for nothing, and the blond one is looking at you too closely for a gentleman. I know, I know, you don’t care a fig about him. And now there’s an old man too! Where do they come from, all of them?”

She laughed at his offended face and looked at him with fondness.

“Thank you, Hugh, for your concerns. You know, I’ve explained to you. They are people that contacted me to help me with the auction, and actions at the orphanage. With you nearby, at least I’m sure my honor is safe.”

Or what was left of it. But he seemed content with that affirmation, though he had his own opinion on her honor, it seemed.

She patted his hand with affected gratefulness and entered her office.

But as the door closed and heads turned towards her, and she remembered a certain night when guns were pointed at her.

The smile dropped from her face, and suddenly she did not feel that much at ease. Rhett was not that close, after all…

But still, she had to do this!

Maybe if she played the foolish god-fearing lady? Rhett had always said she was almost believable with that act…

It would not hurt to try… would it?

“This needs to end,” She began, distorting her face in distress. “I’ve decided…. I can’t do this. I can’t! He’s my husband and I… I… I feel like I'm going to burn in hell for this!”

They looked at her with bewildered eyes, before finally exchanging glances. Then, something seemed to snap into the air.

This was a time to decide where loyalties resided, she realized.

“We should have known this was a mistake.” Hugh Olsen scowled. “We should have gotten rid of you, since the beginning… In fact, we should…”

His trembling hand went to his belt, where his gun was. Scowling, Patrick snatched him from him.

“Shut up, Olsen!”

The old man raised wide eyes at him, surprised by such a behavior.

“McConach?”

“She has saved my life. I owe her. And loyalty with my people is not a laughing matter. It's for life.”

Olsen looked at them with deep incredulity, before a scowl appeared on his face, and he began to raise his hand in accusation.

“You’ll regret it! All of you!”

“Oh, shut up, Olsen, your plan was bad from the start,” Patrick finally turned to him with a groan. “You were the one who decided that a whorehouse was a good place to reunite. Mission for the government, my foot! You did not even have a plan about how to persuade Fenton to give us the plans before she arrived. Thus the reunion.”

“We could find another woman…”

“And end up with the very same situation,” John completed.

What an incompetent team I have fallen into, Scarlett thought on her corner, completely disillusioned.

The man shook his head, offended.

“You’ll regret it! All of you!”

And with that, he ran from the room, visibly terribly discontent.

“Let him grumble,” Patrick said to John, who was about to go to him. “He’s an old man.”

“He knows many things.”

“Nothing has been done,” Todd added. “Yet.”

He finally turned towards Scarlett.

“For you, my lady,” He bowed to her, presenting her a paper from his satchel. “Though sadly, it seems for me that you intend to end our little... scheme."

Suellen’s claim, in paper and signed. Her greedy hands took it and she read the lines eagerly.

“It’s for the best. I knew I could count on you. My knight.” She raised her eyes at him, suddenly alarmed.“She did not doubt anything when you did not sign, and your name was not on it?”

His eyes glinted as he looked at her.

“I dare say she was not reading the papers when she signed it.”

Was he trying to make her jealous? She was certainly tempted to laugh at him.

“She was certainly counting the bills.”

Seeing Todd’s reaction, she had hit the nail right on the head.

“Good.”

She put her name on it and signed it. She would then bring it to Uncle Henry to certify it.

She knew her sister. She would not try to verify it. She would just flaunt her money and think she had had the last word.

She’d let her think so. But in the end, Tara would be safe. They will thank her when they'll realize what she did. Suellen would sulk as she always did, but she'll see the light. And even if not, at least, now, she had what she wanted. Money.

And Scarlett had Rhett. That was worth more than money.

“Are you sure about what you’re doing? About… what will happen with your husband?” Todd paused, his eyes widening as if in realization. “Is he threatening you?”

She did not say so. After all, that belief had quite helped her, and she wondered if it could help her even more in that situation. She raised her eyes on him.

“I am sure of one thing. My husband cannot be bested, at least not for long. He will always find a way.”

Beside him, Patrick McConach laughed.

“She’s right about that,” He said as he patted Todd’s shoulder. “The old fox has many tricks on his sleeves. Tell me, lassie, maybe you could find a way to make _him_ help us.”

“Maybe.”

“No matter what, I’ll always try to protect you,” Todd added, ever in his favorite role.

She almost rolled her eyes.

“I know you will.”

He’ll try. And he’ll fail miserably.

“So, now, what are we going to do?” Patrick suddenly scolded, dismayed. “We were promised a lot of money.”

She froze, counting, her old insecurities coming back to the surface. But then shrugged. 

“I’ll pay you all for your troubles, gentlemen,” She said as excitement took over in her. “This, I promise to you. Give me a few hours and I’ll give you the money. Double for your pain.”

Rhett was on her side, after all. What had she to fear, now? She’ll talk to him, and the matter would be settled.

She closed the door behind them and let out a relieved sigh.

“Are they going?” Hugh grumbled.

“Soon, Hugh,” She said with a smile. Soon.

She left the store, then continued her way, happily. This had been easier than she had thought! She took the buggy and wandered for a time, so cheerful she even saluted some people on the way. Then, a sight made her stop. Her heart skipped a beat, and suddenly it felt a little bit like fate.

She stopped in front of a little shop, considering the dress in front of her, that was on display. It made her remember the old times when she was just a girl, and she felt like she was on a mission.

An idea came to her and she grinned largely, entering the place and asking for the owner. 

When her order was settled, she hummed happily and regained her buggy.

Oh, Rhett would be so surprised! She thought with glee. When he’ll see her, with that dress, and he’ll lead her to that ball… She knew it, he wouldn’t be able to resist her!

Oh, and they’ll dance, and dance. It would be like rewriting history. Yes. It’ll be a new beginning, and this time, they would get it right. Oh, she couldn’t wait for it to happen.

On her lips was the air of Dixie, and she savored it like a well-earned nightcap.

She was halfway home, crossing the park they were used to take long walks in, when she heard a cry calling her. She stopped the buggy and blinked, surprised by the vision of Prissy running towards her in disarray.

A feeling of dread suddenly took her.

Where was Ella?

“Miz Scahlett! Miz Scahlett!” Prissy whined. “Lil’ Ella… she be gone !”

She raised from the buggy and shook the servant by the shoulders.

“Gone? Where could she have gone?”

“I dunno, Miz,” The girl cried, waving her hands nervously. “Well, one time she be dere, ‘Oder she be not, an’ I…”

Oh, she was tempted to slap her! Instead, she took her by the wrist and led her back to the park.

“Show me where you have seen her last! Come on, Prissy, we’ll have to find her, and quick!”

Quickly, Prissy showed the place they had stopped, told an almost incoherent tale by its ramblings and unclearness about a dog that had scared her so, jumping on her, and then the little girl disappearing.

They searched around, for what seemed for Scarlett’s nerves a long time.

Her little girl, alone in the park, so naïve, so trusting. Could someone have snatched her away from Prissy? Was she already too far gone?

Oh, why couldn’t Rhett be there? They had gone to the park quite a lot these days! Why couldn’t he be there, like the other days? What could have prevented him?

Or maybe it was only her fault. If only she had not overslept….

She felt like a goose without a head, running on the grass like that, until her shoes slipped from her feet. She felt its wet freshness on her skin, but her body was hot and vibrating with fear. She felt Prissy had lost her tracks, but then she did not care. That girl was no help anyway.

Oh, if only someone could help her… Anyone.

Her gaze suddenly met Pansy’s, who stopped abruptly when she saw her.

She took a step back, resolute, her pride forgotten.

“Pansy? Pansy, you have to help me!”

The young black woman looked at her with a scowl, then turned her back on her.

“I have nothing to do with you, Mrs. Butler.”

She felt the helplessness nagging her, and the fear left her lips before she could stop it.

“Ella is gone!”

Pansy froze, then turned back to Scarlett. Her eyes were wide and fearful.

“What?”

“She’s gone!” Scarlett cried, her voice slowly leaving her. “She… Prissy…”

She felt arms around her, and then the story told by Prissy was repeated.

Pansy patted her back awkwardly, but she continued, sniffing through it.

Somehow, telling it again, and to someone she knew would understand and cared for the children, she finally felt calmness returning to her, and she began considering things more clearly.

No, crying would not settle the matter. She needed to find witnesses. She needed to…

“Ma’am…” She heard. “Ya’re… ya’re her mother…”

She froze, turning towards the voice that called to her.

She left Pansy’s arms and took a step forward.

In front of her was a boy, dirty and bloodied, a bruised mouth a little agape.

“You…” She recognized him. “You’re that boy that’s always coming at the store, that… Billy!”

He looked at her, but it seemed like he did not really see her. Instead, there was a blankness in his gaze that fed her fear. She took him by the shoulders and began to shake him, first lightly.

“My daughter is missing. I know you’re always lurking on the corners, watching her. And now, I see you, all bruised looking like a simple-minded! But you’re not, you’ve certainly seen something!”

“She… There was a man… She…”

“Where is she?”

“He’s under shock, Scarlett," Pansy intervened.

“Well, then, take him!” She snapped. “There’s food and water in the trunk of the buggy. At the side of the road.”

Seeing as Pansy was scowling, and she could see she was about to protest to assist on her search of Ella, she said, more softly. “Please. Do it. Do it and return once he is settled in it. Try to get him to talk. He must know something. I will continue.”

Pansy looked at her closely, then nodded, taking the child with her.

When she was gone, Scarlett raised her head and pondered. They had looked on the clearer areas. But then, there was also a gazebo, almost at the limit of the little wood.

No, she would not just come back home without her child. She would find her, no matter the cost. And she could not bear imagining the gaze of Rhett if he knew it.

Determinately, she made her way to it, and it was even more painful when she found it was empty. She was about to let out a cry of frustration, when suddenly she heard a bark, and a tearful giggle. She froze and turned her head.

From the woods came Richard Fenton, a dog by his side… and little Ella on the other, her tiny hand in his. He seemed to be telling her a happy story, and she was looking at him with bright eyes.

Scarlett gripped the wood of the fence of the gazebo, then hurried towards them, her instincts telling her to take Ella and go, run until they finally find the buggy.

As if he had felt that, the man’s eyes raised at her and he smiled.

“Oh. There’s your mother.”

Ella’s eyes left him, and a wide smile came to her tear-stained face as she saw Scarlett. She ran towards her, screaming “Mama!” over and over. Scarlett took her fiercely in her arms, feeling with relief her little body against her. She gripped the fabric of her dirtied white dress, her heart racing and racing.

“Mama,” Ella cried. “I was so afraid! There was an evil man! He tried to take me away!”

And then, as if remembering her manners, she turned back to Richard and curtsied, her hands still gripping her mother’s dress.

“Thank you… m’lord!” She said with a sob.“I was so afraid! Mama, he had saved me from that evil man!”

More like he was the evil man himself… Scarlett thought. She took Ella’s hand in hers and kissed it, before turning to Richard. She met his gaze and held her breath.

Behind her, she heard hurried steps, and she knew Pansy had joined her.

With a voice that was calmer than she felt, she turned to Ella.

"Ella, go with Pansy. She will lead you to the buggy. Your friend Billy is here as well. We were all so very worried, you know.”

“Billy?” Ella blinked, her green eyes so innocent it hurt. “May he stay with us? Please?”

“Of course,” She said absent-mindedly. “My sweet, I’ll be there in a few minutes. I need to thank Lord Fenton.”

She needed the boy, she could see that. He had certainly seen something…

Pansy scowled when Scarlett dismissed her, giving her Ella’s hand. But then she mouthed her that she would explain everything, and after observing her for a time, she seemed to accept it.

Finally, they were gone. She turned towards Richard who was still looking at her curiously.

There, she realized the danger in this man, and as she saw it, she began to guess everything that had happened. Her mind ran miles, before she finally found her voice, her hands joined firmly in front of her.

She had to get rid of that man, she realized. Not just now. But forever. He was a threat to her family, but not a threat that could be easily handled. How blind she had been! In her newfound happiness, she had almost forgotten who she was dealing with!

She needed to play along. See what he was looking for.

She lowered demurely her gaze.

“I’m thankful for you to have saved my child.”

“It’s alright. Every gentleman would have done the same.”

But you’re no gentleman.

“It’s fortunate I have found her,” He continued. “And fortunate that I found you. People, these days… they’re like animals in cages, jumping on little children like that.”

He really thought she had bought it, didn't he?

“I’m most thankful…” She played along.

He raised a dismissing hand.

“Bah, it’s nothing!” He said. “In fact, I think this meeting is quite fateful. For, in fact, I was looking to talk to you… Oh, how should I proceed?” He scratched his head as if it was hard for him to say the words, but in his eyes, there was a glint of mischief. “I have found out the most incredible thing… I’m afraid I must tell you… Oh, and you're in quite a vulnerable state, now! To tell you that at such a moment!”

She blinked.

“Tell me what?”

He shook his head.

“Oh, it’s so unfortunate. For so great a lady like you…”

He was trying to play with her fear.

“How so?”

His eyes were intense on her as he said the words. No, there seemed to be no concerns for her feelings, only a will to shock her with the information.

“Your husband is involved in the selling of young orphans to a most disreputable house.”

She froze.

He really thinks me a fool, she thought, irritated. He’s getting desperate.

Well, he was a patient man, this one. After all, yesterday, he had also provoked a meeting. She winced once again at the memory, before remembering what he expected her reaction to be.

“No!” She cried, this time more genuine, for she really felt the fear rising in her heart. Not of Rhett. But for her. And for her husband. "It can’t be!”

“And a murderer!” He added ferociously, before raising an object that he had put on his pocket. "And this was his weapon.”

The paper-knife.

Her fingers trembled.

“Can I see it?”

He blinked, as if surprised, then took a step back.

“I’m afraid I must keep it, waiting for other proofs that will come in time. Witnesses, that for the moment fear to talk.”

She needed to get a hold into that.

“Please do. And I want to see them.”

He looked at her, then an amused smile came to his face. He put back the paper-knife in his pocket.

“You’re still disbelieving, then?”

“Well, isn’t a wife supposed to believe in the goodness of her husband at all times?”

He stared at her as if she was a silly little thing. Good. There was a moment when he had almost seen her true feelings, she had sensed it. But now it was settled. He underestimated her.

“Your husband is a rascal, my dear, I think we can both agree on that. We are both victims of his schemes and greed. I want him to get what he deserves. Losing everything he had to another, and watch as they prosper, before meeting his own end. I want him to pay for everything he had done. And who knows? Maybe you could love me too. And it has certainly not gone without your notice that from our first encounter, I am entirely fascinated by you. I’m not an unlovable chap, you see, I’m sure you’ll find it all in your advantage.”

He was leaning on her, and she remembered what happened yesterday with a shudder. It needed not to happen again. She did not want that. She took a step back.

“This is no place to talk about that!”

“It’s a fortuitous meeting.”

“I need to make sure my child come back home safely.”

“I can accompany you. I so long to see that dear Rhett.”

She stopped him. Oh, certainly not!

“It would not do…Oh, I would not… be able to hide… my newfound feelings.”

She batted her lashes towards him, as if to make him grasp a secret meaning. “You are my savior, after all…”

His eyes widened, then raked over her body from head to toe. “I understand.”

Like a fish on a hook. He had expected her to fall quickly, and now that she hinted at that, he believed it without second-guessing it. The arrogant peacock.

“Then meet me again in two hours.”

“A secret meeting?” He seemed to contemplate it. “I like the idea. Where?”

Of course, you would, she thought.

“The warehouse.”

He repeated the words, as if it was a promise. Something glinted in his eyes, and she did not like it.

“But by then…” She said, as if she was a frightened lady, afraid of feelings she could not understand. “Goodbye!”

She ran away, and she knew he was looking at her, believing every word she had said.

She would need to find a way, and quick.

With a strength she now knew she possessed, she joined Pansy, Prissy, Ella, and Billy, and they went home, silently, Scarlett's mind racing with all the possibilities. Prissy led Ella back to her room, but as she was about to leave, Pansy stopped Scarlett and looked at her with hard eyes.

“Now you’re going to tell me everything.”

Scarlett sighed and led her to the study. She needed an ally, she knew that. And she had been helpful. She had helped, even after their quarrel… Yes, she could trust her. For Ella, Pansy could do that.

She told her everything, then waited for her reaction, her heart hoping it would settle everything.

Instead, there was a scowl on Pansy’s face as she heard it all. She felt her hopes going down, before disappearing miserably.

“You and him… You’re playing with people and their lives as if it was a game! Do you realize it?”

“I didn’t want to…”

“In such situations, not wanting is not enough!

“Don’t you think I’m not trying to fix it?” Scarlett retorted, feeling the unfairness of it all.

“I do know you’re trying to fix it!” Pansy exclaimed with irritation. “You’ll have me on your back until you do!”

Scarlett blinked, unbelieving.

“You’ll… go with me?”

“It’s that or I’ll take the children from you and escape in another country. And I don't want to get caught by your people.”

Then, looking at her, she shook her head, and there was almost a fond smile on her face. But mostly irritated.

“You two are meant for each other…”

On Scarlett’s mind came Rhett’s image, and she smiled, the curves of her lips turning dreamy and soft as she almost forgot what had almost happened.

“I know!”

“That wasn’t supposed to be a compliment.”

“It is for me.”

“Can’t you just settle your marital quarrels in the bedroom, instead of using the world as your battlefield?”

“I guess that’s an idea.”

They looked at each other, then finally, a laugh came to them. An absurd laugh, filled with relief and the ridiculousness of it all.

“There, there,” Pansy finally said. “So, what’s your next step?”

Scarlett’s eyes widened, and she returned to the cold reality. She pondered, her gaze hardening. Finally, she raised her head and began to devise a plan.

They both decided to go to the store, knowing the men were waiting for her. Oh, if only she could get them on her side, she thought. Maybe with money, they could… After all, they had already promised to leave it to that only a few hours ago. Maybe…

But the meeting began on an odder note than expected. Because when they entered her office and joined the group, Pansy froze, her eyes settling on John as if she had seen a ghost.

“Aren?”

John looked at her with his big brown eyes and took a step back. His lips opened almost unwillingly, as if he was revealing a secret, a tender secret that was now unveiled.

“Pansy…”

Silence filled the blank between them, unsettling and almost cold.

“Fiddle-dee-dee, how many names does this man have?” Scarlett scoffed, before noticing the uneasy distance between the two, Pansy’s face showing a conflict between joy and irritation, and the man in front of her that seemed to hesitate between running away and taking her into his arms. “God’s nightgown, don’t tell me you’re both long-lost lovers who meet again after dire circumstances?”

“No!”

“No?” John’s head turned abruptly toward Pansy.

“Well, in fact…”

“Well, damn me.” Scarlett cursed, before realizing she was beginning to talk like Rhett. She chuckled. “Fiddle-dee-dee! That is all nonsense. Being close to books certainly clouded my mind.” And him. And _him_.

He’d laugh if he knew he was making a romantic out of her.

“Anyway,” She cleared her throat. “Change of plan. We have a peacock to pluck.”

And a fox to keep out of it. At least until she could find a way out of this and make sure the children were safe. She needed to keep a close eye on Richard. Just like Rhett would say, she needed to distract him.

“And… the plans?”

She did not even blink.

“It’s a scam.”

Well, she didn’t know that. But she wanted to have them by her side, and she was ready to lie for that.

Patrick cursed. “So we’ve been working for nothing?”

She smiled.

“No. We can still make him pay the bills.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Patrick scolded. “And why would we follow you?”

“You, you have a debt with me,” She pointed, her eyes hard on him as he winced. “What had you said, again? Loyalty is not a thing to trifle with with your people? As for the others… I am Rhett Butler’s wife. If you can rely on his cunningness and way of making money out of nothing, then you can count on me for the same.” She felt powerful then, and it was as if Rhett was on her side, watching her with approbation and pride. At least, she wished he would. “I promise a great deal of money to whom will help me. If it fails, it will be me paying it. If not, it’ll be Fenton”s.”

They looked at her in what looked like awe, and she felt a quiet satisfaction at this. Even Pansy seemed to look at her with new eyes, more respectful.

Little did she know that in that moment, she was not only feeling powerful. It radiated from her, a strong mix of charisma and charm that was inspiring and irresistible.

“I’m in,” John said.

“Aye,” Patrick nodded.

Todd Smith bowed. “And I’m at your service, milady. What do you intend to do?”

What would Rhett do?

She took a step forward.

“McConach, I need you to go to Belle’s house for me. It seems she needs a silent investor, for it seemed my husband gave up on that little... business of his," She felt sure of that. After all, why would he continue? "Make sure she knows one is interested in it. When the papers are signed, the deed will be with the name of Lord Richard Fenton in it. There, we'll need to make a link with the orphanage. Mr. Smith, you told me you had something.”

"I do," He replied with a smile.

"Then that settles it. No, for the matter of the silent investor..."

“I’ll do it,” Pansy intervened. “A woman may find her way easier in there.”

“No!” John said. “I’ll do it.”

“Aren, stop it.”

“She knows who you are. But she doesn’t know me.”

“Not a lot does, in fact,” Scarlett muttered, irritated.

“Then I’ll make sure it gets published. At least somewhere.”

Scarlett blinked.

“You have a contact with a journal? You?”

“Do you really think I contented myself with a few talks in the kitchen?” Pansy seemed to be quite ruffled by that. “I have been sending under a pen name pamphlets to a newspaper before you even realized there was a whole other world in front of you.”

“Well played.” Scarlett huffed, more than a little miffed. “But then, it makes me wonder why you stayed a servant for so long, if you could do that,”

“Nobody pays attention to the maid. No attention, no problem.”

“That’s my woman,” John -or was it Aren?- grinned.

“Not yet,” Her voice was cold, but there was a subtle teasing in her eyes. “I haven’t forgiven you yet.”

“Stop it, you two!” Scarlett chided, almost jealous by the atmosphere they brought to the group, before focusing on the matter at stake. “But then, it might not be enough…”

“So, am I going to the whorehouse, yes or no?” Patrick intervened. “I rather liked that idea…”

She rested her eyes on him, considering.

“You… You did tell me you had a debt to settle with me.”

“I do,” He was wary, now.

“Then there may be a more important matter I will ask of you, while... John goes to that house. Become my employee. At my home. Protect my children. In no way must they be used against me or anyone else. And there’s a boy, that may have seen something. He’ll need to be safe, if we want the plan to work.”

The red-haired giant cursed in Gaelic, his foot stomping the ground. But he seemed to accept nonetheless.

A few other matters were discussed, and finally, they went on their own ways. Pansy joined her in the buggy, and for a moment, she felt confident and strong.

Yes, she could settle it without Rhett. In fact, it could be the proof she needed to get him to understand she could fend for herself, she could fight for them.

And then, there was another matter, that she did not want to think, but that kept creeping in her mind.

If Rhett knew what she intended to do, he would try to stop her. He might even get in the line.

No. She needed him to be safe. She needed him to be the guarantee that no matter what, her children would be cared for. She needed to know he will still be there, strong and remarkable, and alive.

She told Pansy to wait in the buggy after she settled it on a dark corner. The night was already falling, and she wondered how time could have gone so quickly.

Was Rhett wondering where she was? Were the children worried? She would need to reassure them when she comes home, she thought. After all, it already happened, times when she passed the whole day at the store, coming until late in the evening….

Before opening the door to the warehouse, she took a big breath of air, hoping it would give her enough courage to face the enemy. She squared her shoulder and scowled to herself. What was she afraid of? She had survived Yankees. She had killed, and lied, and learned from the best. She could handle it.

He was here, waiting for her. He smiled when he saw her, the smile of someone who thought he had won it all.

She went closer to him and nodded.

“I’ve decided,” She began, hurriedly, her hands joined in front of her like a prayer. She knew her eyes were bright and big, almost naive to an outsider. “You were right. Rhett is a terrible man and he needs to be stopped. I’ll do it. And I’ll give you Tara and Twelve Oaks in proof of my loyalty.”

He blinked, surprised.

“I thought I would meet Miss Wilkes during the week?”

She fluttered her lashes.

“I thought it’d be easier if she thought it was me buying it, as she is a friend of the family,” She raised innocent wide eyes on him. “I hope that it is not bothering you. I thought, that, after all, if we are to be getting married….”

A dismayed frown appeared on his forehead, and she was tempted to laugh. But he composed herself rapidly. “Marriage? Well, of course, my dear, of course. So it’ll be… well, like an advance.”

He squeezed her hands so much she thought he wanted to break them.

“Yes. But the appearances need to be kept until then.”

“How, then? When?” His fingers drew insistent circles on her knuckles. His eyes were dark with an excitement he did not hide.

Was it some kind of foreplay, to him?

“Once I have the deeds, I will put it in my jewelry box. You will buy it at the auction on Friday.”

“And you’ll sign the divorce papers.”

“On Monday, after the Ball.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“I know what I’m worth. You’ll get the key when we’ll meet at the ball.”

“Indeed," He nodded. “And you’ll give yourself to me on Tuesday.”

He did not intend on marrying me, she had realized it. This was just another ploy to make Rhett suffer. Just as well, she was not intending on signing the divorce papers. In fact, she had considered it at first, when she thought Rhett did not want her, only to trap Richard to do just what he offered, so that she and the children could benefit from it all. Cruel man or not, that one was titled and had a lot of money. Thus what had at first given her the idea to take Twelve Oaks on her own. But he just needed to believe she would.

And maybe, putting the divorce papers in front of Rhett might be the way to push him out of his reserve and say openly he loved her? She considered. That in fact, he did not want her out of his life?

“You are quite bold, my lord,” She batted her lashes coquettishly. “And your advance?”

I’ll be your pretty fool, she thought. At least until it suits me not to.

“My advance?”

“It seems I have to wait a long time before getting married to you…”

“And what would you want?”

“The plans.”

He laughed.

“You want to know my secret?” He leaned towards her, smirking. "There’s no plan. It was all just a scam for you to turn to me. I wanted you to open your eyes on your husband.”

She froze.

“So… no petroleum, then?”

He shrugged.

“Most likely there is. All good lies always have at least one hint of truth. But it seems the plans have been… gone.”

She blinked, surprised. It seemed finally her little lie wasn’t so much of a lie, actually. How convenient it all was. She’d have one less sin to confess. Well, then, that settled his fate.

“From the first moment, I wanted you as my ally, for you are as much a victim in all of this than me, and I wanted to make Rhett busy. I knew he would not resist the opportunity of getting easy money. The thing with rumors, is that it quickly goes into wild directions. And now that I met you… And that kiss I have stolen from you…. It haunts me still. Would you forgive me for that? Now, what would you think of my advance?”

She shuddered with the memory. But he seemed to think it was one of pleasure and arousal, for his lips stretched at the corner, his eyes glinting with a light that made her recoil.

Fiddle-dee-dee! What did so many people think of stolen kisses as that much important and binding? It was no big a thing, and she hadn’t liked it when his mouth had touched her, her mind relieved at the fact that at least, no one could see them at that part of the store. And he talked about forgiveness, but his smugness told her he wasn’t sorry at all!

She looked down demurely, her hands gripping her skirt with apparent nervousness.

“I’d say honesty is the best advance I could have received.”

“Then, when that dear Rhett is under lock and keys…”

She felt his hands on hers, and she so wanted to get them away from him.

“We’ll see him both and relish at his misery.”

He thought he had trapped her. That she was fool enough to betray her husband for some vague promise. Well, she would be the one to laugh in the end.

“I’ll be free,” She said softly.

His hands squeezed her, before he put them to his lips, a fervent glow in his eyes.

“We’ll be free.”

On her cheek, there was an angry blush and her eyes glowed emerald

“Yes, we’ll be.”

Rhett and her. Oh, she couldn’t wait to see his face when she’ll serve that insufferable man to him on a silver platter. He dared threatened her child, her, and her husband. He dared to unsettle their lives for some twisted revenge that should have been forgotten long ago, and that maybe wasn’t even based on anything at all!

That would show Rhett. Yes, he would see then, that she was able to fight for him, to fight for them.

“I have to go.”

That seemed to awaken him from his trance. His hands left her as if she had burned him, and she was surprised by such a change in his behavior.

“Of course… Of course,” He mumbled, nodding. Then a smile came to him. “Till then… my sweet sultana.”

He left hurriedly and she was glad when finally the sound of the door echoed in the room.

She took a little time to compose herself and left too. She joined Pansy in the buggy and told her in a weary voice, before taking the way home. But as she did so, Pansy stopped her.

“Stop there. That’s where I’ll stay.”

Scarlett, surprised, let the reins fall from her hands.

“Won’t you come home with me?”

“No. I said it to you. I intend on having my voice heard, and I realized it would not do if I was still your maid. And while you apologized to me, I can see I could never respect myself, you, nor you me if I were to be still your maid. At least if you were true with that offer of friendship.”

“I am!” She protested.

Pansy nodded.

“Then instead, I’ll work with you for whatever plan you have. I can see you are brewing another one, and for Wade and Ella’s sake, I’d better see their mother does not go too without my notice. I promised Wade, after all.”

Scarlett looked at her, feeling unbelievingly grateful, then embraced her.

“Thank you.”

Pansy patted awkwardly her back, and finally, they went apart.

When Scarlett went home, it was dark and empty. The silence was unsettling, and the shadows like ghosts that were looking at her, judging. She continued, half nervous, her way toward the stairs.

“Come here, Scarlett.”

She froze. Rhett’s voice came from the study, that she now could see was filled with light, and she knew she could not avoid it. She turned to him and joined him in the room, closing the door behind them.

He was settled on the sofa, eyeing her closely, so intensely she felt herself shivering and self-doubting. Her hands gripped the hem of her dress to keep her fingers from fidgeting.

But yet she raised her chin and met his gaze.

“Yes, Rhett?”

He raised from the sofa and waiting, his eyes still on her.

“You’re quite late, my dear,” He finally remarked. “Dinner has been served. The children are off to bed.”

“It had been a busy day.”

“It seemed so,” He said, not commenting more on the subject, for he could see she would not say. “I’ve seen we have a little guest.”

“So we have.”

“You know people may talk.”

“He was wandering on the streets. I couldn’t just let him.”

“You would have. Once.”

“I’ve changed,” She shrugged, her eyes defiant. “You have a ward, after all. I’ve never questioned that. Am I not allowed to have one too?”

His mouth went down at the corner, and she could see he wasn’t pleased by her remarking on this. She was tempted to scowl. Why, what a hypocrite, she thought. When he is doing it, it’s all fine in the world, and when it’s me, it’s a scandal.

But then it seemed this surge of feelings was the drop that unsettled it all. Her shoulders dropped, and she felt so very weary. Her eyes blinked, and she thought she might pass out from it.

She had been trying so hard to hold back, to contain. But now, she couldn’t.

“Rhett…” She took a step closer, her body shaking as finally the emotions she had tried to keep in check came bubbling down in the surface. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

He froze, then looked at her pale face, the eyes that expressed an exhaustion of mind and body, and the mouth that was no longer scowling, but was softly open in a plead. He stepped forward, agitation coming to his expression, but then stopped in front of her, as if hesitating. His fists clenched, and then he shoved them almost angrily in his pockets.

She half wanted to chuckle fondly at the gesture, that she now recognized for what it was. But then it would break it all.

“Scarlett…. What happened?”

The tears were about to slip. She let it go with a cry.

“Oh, no question. Just this once, please!” She put her arms swiftly around his stiff chest, her eyes begging, but not daring to cross his. “Hold me, Rhett. Hold me without question, without conditions. Hold me as if you could not bear to let me go. Hold me… hold me as if you loved me still!”

As she finished her words, his body relaxed, and she felt with pleasure that he returned her embrace as fiercely as she did.

“Darling!” She felt him leaning on her, his nose nuzzling her hair. “It seems you are going through a lot, Scarlett, if it leads you into my arms weeping like that.” He paused, reflecting. “Maybe you should give it all up. It doesn’t seem to make you happy. Maybe you should…”

Her grip on him tightened.

I can’t, she wanted to say. Not now. Not before I know it is safe to. Not until I have that stupid paper-knife. Not until that man was under lock and keys, far from her, the children, and Rhett.

“Just hold me, Rhett. That’s all I need for now.”

She closed her eyes and savored the moment. Silence was surrounding them, and she felt as if somehow the air in the room was purer, crisp, and pleasant. It was filled with his scent and hers, comforting mix that put her at ease. She leaned into this warmth, her heart leaping with hope.

Finally, he broke the silence.

“Do you want to do something, my pet? A little poker, maybe?”

“No. No game between you and I. At least for tonight.”

“Then, what do you want us to do?”

She considered.

“Could you tell me a story? You always were so good at this.”

He smiled softly.

“I believe you bested me at that.”

“I want to hear your voice.”

There was a mocking surrender as he sighed, his hands gripping her shoulders as he looked into her eyes. “Fine. But I fear I have no story that comes to my mind now. But then I’m re-reading something now, dear, and maybe you’d like to hear it.”

She nodded, and let herself be guided to the sofa, her hands on his as he faced her, his dark eyes barely leaving her. He nodded back, then took out a book from his jacket.

She raised an incredulous eyebrow at him.

“How many things can you put in that jacket? What else do you keep in there?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, my darling?” He smirked, his eyes teasing. “Did you know that curiosity killed the cat?”

“And satisfaction brought it back. I don’t see your point.”

He laughed shortly. “There’s none.”

She settled more comfortably on the sofa.

“So, what is happening in this story of yours?”

He smirked.

“That’s not my story, my pet,” He said. “That’s a fine little novel from one Englishwoman, daughter of a pastor…”

“I dread the dullness of it,” Scarlett could not help but comment.

He chuckled.

“Oh, you’ll see. That pastor’s daughter has quite the dark thoughts about her. Here, a man is hosted by a strange and aloof landlord, who seems to have secrets, as well as his entire household. So our… well, hero asks a few questions to the servant, who’s very happy to oblige.”

“What a gossip.”

“Indeed, my dear. Now hush,” “ _Before I came to live there, She commenced -waiting no farther invitation to her story: “I was almost always at Wuthering Heights…”_

As he continued, she put her chin on his shoulder, reading the words as he said them, engulfing herself in the story he was telling her. She saw the moors, wild and raw, with its rocks as hard and unwelcoming as knives. She felt the cold and vigorous wind around them, and the strange sense of fatality that was surrounding them all. In her mind, the conflicts were true, and she found herself understanding and hoping, hoping. Yes, she understood all the heroine’s feelings, torn between that wish for easiness and comfort, and fortune, and that love she could not stop.

_“Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.”_

His voice was deep as he read that part. It raised a bit, and there was that glint she knew the meaning now too well. She closed her eyes and her embrace of his arm tightened.

He seemed to stop a little, as if wakened up on his trance, then patted awkwardly the hands that were nestled at the crook of his arm.

He continued and she drank from his words like it was pure water and she was lost in a desert.

 _“…my love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nelly, I_ _am_ _Heathcliff_!”

Her lips moved as he said that and the words impregned her mind. But in her mind, it was not that fictional character she thought of, but of Rhett.

“Are you crying?” He took notice on that. “Damn me, I don’t have any handkerchief now.”

“It’s alright,” She said as she wiped them with her fingers, laughing almost at her foolishness. Rhett’s hand was gripping hard on hers, now. “It’s silly, really. Why did he leave? Did he not love her?”

“He did,” He replied, releasing her. “But then he could not bear thinking she did not love him, that she did not think him worthy of her.”

“Well, he’s a fool,” She scolded, and he chuckled at this. “He is! It is so obvious she is in love with him and she wasn’t meaning what she said!"

“You think that because as a reader, you have access to every information.”

“Stop talking nonsense,” She chided. “He knew her since the beginning, he should have known she did not mean what she said!”

“Sometimes, it’s not that easy, Scarlett…”

“Maybe it should,” She said more softly. “Maybe it would all be so much better if they just talked about it and be honest about what they really feel.”

Rhett paused.

“Maybe,” He finally said. “But that’d make for a shorter, less interesting story. Not a story that one can take as a lesson.”

“How does honesty make for uninteresting stories?” She relented, baffled. “How does it end?”

His eyes darkened, and it shined like a warning.

“She chose the man that seemed to have the most money and comfort at the moment. She died.”

She froze.

Funny how now that she had no doubts over her own feelings and his, it felt easier to go past his words and see what was underneath.

“Oh.” Oh, no need for your veiled threats, my love, she wanted to say. I’m by your side… “And… Heathcliff?”

“He got his revenge in the end. And a lot of money.”

She let out a laugh.

“And we both know how happy that can make a person.”

He looked at her with genuine surprise.

“You think so, my dear?”

“I know so,” She said, softly. Her hand squeezed his arm as she hesitated. “Rhett…”

“What, my dear?”

“I love you,” She raised her eyes on him, and it shined true, too true for her to bear it without feeling she might explode. She tried to laugh it off. “And that girl was foolish not to choose Heathcliff. I just wanted to say it.”

He did not answer back. But he did not need to. She felt him release a breath, and his muscles under her relaxing.

She knew it now.

Yet, she couldn’t say so. Not now.

“Did you, now?” He said. “Don’t you have anything else you want to say?”

“Mmm…” She hummed, before examining him closely. “Do you know of the tale of the misunderstood but loyal spouse?”

Something lightened up in his eyes. There it is, she noted. The cat waiting for its prey. She did not hide the love, did not hide the faith.

Trust me, she wanted to say. I am by your side.

“I can’t say that I have. Though it seems quite familiar to me. Would you tell it to me?”

“Maybe one day. When you tell me your own stories. I always loved hearing them.” She waited a little while, observing him, waiting for him to add anything. He did not, and even though she expected it, she was a bit disappointed. She kissed his hardened cheek softly, her lips almost tingling as she took pleasure on its smoothness. “Goodnight, my love.”

He looked into her eyes deeply, then seemed not to find lies in them.

But would it be enough for him to trust her in the end? Could he do it so blindly when it came to her? He wanted her to do that when it was him that was scheming. He wanted her to meet him in the end. But when it was her?

She sighed and turned away.

He cleared his throat.

“By the way, my dear, before you go,” He said, stopping her in her intent, his hand catching her wrist. “An old friend of mine will be coming tomorrow, for lunch. I would like you to be there to greet him.”

“Oh,” She said, shrugging. “Alright. I’ll be there.”

“You might know of him,” He added, his eyes resting on her. “I dare say his arrival yesterday made quite an impression, and that with his titles and wealth, I do think you’ll be interested to meet him. Lord Richard Fenton, from the Old Continent.”

She blinked. One shiver ran down her spine. She paused, examining Rhett, before realizing he was still observing her as well.

“Alright then,” She could not help but crack a smile, shrugging as she regained her composure. “So be it, I’ll meet your friend, _husband_. After all, aren’t I a dutiful wife, in my own way?”

This reaction seemed to surprise him, and she left with his dumbfounded expression with a gleeful feeling of mischief in her stomach.

He may suspect something, she could see that. And when he was like that how could he even deny he cared? Well, it did not matter. He could keep his secrets. She trusted him enough not to pry by herself when now she knew he was on her side. She would not keep her love hidden, at least when they were in private spaces. She would show him she could be soothing, loving. She would not let him come to her bed, no, not now. He would need to earn that. But she would make sure he knew he was wanted. They would make it, yes. Not even someone like Richard Fenton would stop them.

She wanted to believe it would be enough to keep him waiting.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you once again to those who read and review this story. You are the reason why I continue writing!
> 
> I hope you will like this chapter!

The fire burned around her, bright, hot, and stingy, but it was her mind that hurt the most. It was her heart that was in pain. Questions came to her restless mind, without an answer to be found. Where were the children? Were they safe? What was going to happen to them if she couldn't get out? Was there even a way out? She could see through the windows that they were waiting for her to leave the house, like hunters waiting for a vixen to escape her smoky den. Rhett was not here… Rhett was not there! And now, he would not come, he had left. Why had he left? Did he not love her anymore? Had she been in the wrong? She had the sense something terrible had happened, a cut on an already bleeding wound.

Why was it happening? It had never gone so far before. Why now?

_I'll keep you safe…_

Yes, he had said that. But where was he?

_And when I love thee not Chaos is come again._

Here was chaos. And she was damned if she tried to escape it, damned if she stayed.

_Death might be the only way out…_

No, no, no, no….

Yet the words stayed in her mind, and somehow, they made a sense that her fuzzed brain could not entirely grasp now.

She kept running, the flames grazing the hems of her nightgown. She escaped her bedroom and ran down the stairs, her feet cracking on a sharp object that left her bleeding. She turned back but another explosion forced her to continue her flight. The study! She needed to get there, before deciding anything. There awaited her answer, no matter what it was. But as she opened the door, she felt the hard embrace of death.

She screamed.

"Shh… Hush, dear, now. It's over."

With a startle, she opened her eyes to the half-darkness, barely lightened by her lamp. She blinked until the borders seemed clearer to her. Relief filled her heart in recognition and she leaned on the massive figure that was her husband.

"Oh, Rhett," She whispered, almost to herself. "You've come back! I knew you would! I knew it was true..."

She put her arms around him, her nose cold on the warm smoothness of his neck.

His body was stiff against hers. She had felt it startled at her touch, and then a slight flicker, like a candle blown by the wind. She looked at him, a confused questioning on her mind.

He was eyeing her speculatively, almost warily.

"Where are the children?"

"In their beds. You are safe, now," He repeated. "It was only a dream."

He caressed her hair in a soothing, absent-minded way, and she was almost sure he wasn't even aware he was doing so. He seemed to be thinking deeply, a frown on his forehead.

"Is there something you're not telling me?"

She hesitated, trying to read the emotions in his eyes, but finding none.

"I don't think so. Nothing you don't already know."

"Humor me."

"I…" She wettened a bit her lip, feeling a little apprehension. "I… I haven't eaten yesterday?"

His dark brows raised, almost to the roots of his hair. Whatever reply he had expected, this had not been that.

"By God, Scarlett, what?" He scowled. "Why on earth haven't you eaten?"

"Don't swear."

"I'll swear if I want to!" He continued, his brows arching. "You infuriating woman, I would never have thought I would have to remind you to eat!"

She shook her head.

"You don't have to! I just… forgot."

"Forgot?" He scoffed. "What else have you forgotten, uh?"

"Please, don't be mad."

"I'm not," He shook his head as if offended by the mere idea. "I'm…"

"Worried?" She looked at him closely. "Is it so hard for you to say?"

It seemed to make him pause as he gazed back at her.

"It's not. We're friends, aren't we?"

"Yes. Friends."

He nodded quietly towards her, before leaving the room. He came back minutes after with a tray and one of their servants holding another. She raised an eyebrow at him but let him do so. She was tempted to smile at the exaggeration. She humored him, taking a few pastries and a coffee under his watchful gaze.

"Scarlett…" He said as she ate. "I've noticed something. There's an Irish giant in the house."

Ah yes. Patrick.

"He's Scottish."

"My dear, I don't give a damn," He retorted. "Where on earth does he come from?

If she flinched by his choice of words, it was soon appeased by the quizzing stare Rhett was giving her, and the quirk of the brow that drew an uneven line on his forehead.

"Well, you said so yourself. Scotland, I guess."

"Don't play the fool with me, Scarlett, and don't take me for one. What is he doing there?" He leaned in, concerned, putting a hand on hers. "Is it because of what happened to Ella yesterday?"

Her eyes widened at this.

"You know of it?"

"Ella told me. Did you really think she would keep such things like a charming … 'prince saving her from evil' from me, who knows her since she was born?"

"No. Of course, not," She put back the tray, before raising her eyes on him. "Oh, Rhett, I am so ashamed!"

His look softened.

"Why ashamed, dear?"

"I should have known. I should have paid attention."

"You were not the one charged with looking after her at that time."

"I am her mother."

"That, you are, and you're doing… good," He nodded, as if amazed by the admission. "Yes, you're doing good."

She could not help but scowl.

"Since when do you think I'm doing good as a mother?"

"I have eyes, Scarlett," He retorted. "I may not have been very convinced of your maternal instincts before, but I'd be a fool to want to stay in that opinion now."

The prepared vexation dropped as he said that, like a balloon that had been pierced.

"Oh."

"You love your children, Scarlett, and they love you."

She looked at him, a question in her eyes that he did not answer to. She tried to tell herself it was alright, that she already knew. Yet, the images of her nightmare were still on her mind, though fading away a little, and with them the emotions and thoughts.

She let him go for this once, let him leave as the tray was taken back, and prepared herself. She took news and gave orders for the other child that was settled in one of the numerous rooms, then left.

India was already waiting when she arrived later at Uncle Henry's, and they both raised expectant eyes on hers.

"How very unusual," Henry finally commented. "If somebody had told me this would happen, I'll never have believed it."

"Let's get on with it," India scoffed at this.

She looked through the papers, reading them once. Then twice.

"You're sure this is the surer way? You promise you'll protect it?" India asked again. "Even from your husband?"

Scarlett nodded.

"I do," She said. "It will unsettle people to know that someone bought it anonymously. Only Uncle Henry, you, and I know I am the one buying it. And Ashley, of course. They will leave you alone once the word is spread. Which, if you play it right, should not take that long."

Fenton will certainly be glad to think he was in the secret as well, she thought. He would think she was doing it for him. That she trusted him.

India stared at her for a long time with a lingering doubt, before sighing and signing. Then she leaned back on her chair, a weary look in her eyes.

"I suppose I have to thank you," She said after a moment.

"You don't have to," Scarlett said. "I do it for Melly."

And for Rhett. For Ella. For Wade.

"But I want to," India said reluctantly, before sighing once again. "All this hatred, I've gathered against you… It all comes to nothing now. What's the point? I have no reason now to continue so."

She looked at her in disbelief.

"How unexpected."

"Don't expect anything more."

Scarlett couldn't help a smile. "I wouldn't dream to."

And there, the atmosphere in the place became somehow lighter.

The two women nodded in understanding, and India left, the check in her hands, her shoulders visibly more relaxed.

And yet, Scarlett stayed on her chair, waiting.

"Scarlett?" Henry finally asked. "Is there anything else?"

She looked at him for a moment, then decided.

"Yes. I want to modify my will."

The old man looked at her, surprised, but decided not to dwell on that for the moment. He could see she wasn't ready to.

"Alright… I'm going to take the papers…"

"Yes, do," She urged him. "I need some time to think. And write."

"Take your time."

When she saw he was gone, she took one of the blank papers left on the desk and a pen. Her hand traced the first words with urgency and she contemplated it, astonished.

" _My dearest Rhett…"_

Oh, fiddle-dee-dee! She was beginning to be all morbid and dreary!

Yet, she continued writing until her heart ached and tears spilled on her face. Until the feelings reappeared and she was left breathless once again.

" _If we ever miss each other again…"_

Yes. If. Not when. It was no certainty. Rhett's love was a certainty. She had to hold on to that. Even if he did not want her to know.

Yet, she did know now.

She was being foolish. She looked at the letter, tempted to burn it. Yet, the idea of the flames eating it gave her shivers.

She signed instead.

When Henry returned with the paper, she felt strangely calm as she dictated what she wanted and he noted it down. He looked at the writing a moment, bewildered, then stared at her.

"Are you sure, Scarlett?" He said, "Is there something you're not telling me?"

She faced him with a determined gaze.

"Rhett is the only one I can trust. He is my husband and I love him. I know that if something happens, he'll be there to protect my children and take care of them."

"Yet, it is a bit early to think of such things," He commented. "And people talk, you know… Is there…?"

"People do like to talk!" She snapped. "Yet, what do they know of us? What do they know of him? Of me? Bonnie died when she was only a girl. It can happen. It's been a year now and… I thought I should have done much earlier."

"You've grown up. Alright," He sighed. "But if one day you want to talk…"

"Yes, I know."

"You're my nephew's widow. You were my niece's friend. I may not have agreed to all you have done, far from it. But it'd be insulting their memories not to care what happens to you."

"I know. And I thank you. Yet, I know what I'm doing."

"You know I could care for Wade…"

"And separate him from Ella? From Rhett? You know he's been there almost all his life! He's been… He's been a father to him, even when no one expected him to. My Rhett may be a lot of things, but no one can accuse him of being a bad father."

She leaned in, eyeing him with a warning.

"I hope I can trust you to protect my interests and that of my family if something happens."

The lawyer looked at her with a scowl.

"You know I am a man of my word."

She nodded. "I know, yes."

She nodded once more, gathering the papers of the sale in her satchel. She then gave the letter to Henry and told him to leave it with the will. Then, her matter over, she went home.

She frowned as she saw the vast amount of food on the table, from roasted chickens, mashed potatoes, and spicy stews with fishes remembering her their honeymoon to New-Orleans to heavy cakes filled with chocolate mousses and delicate pastries powdered with sugar. It all tickled her nose with the monstrous temptation of easy satisfaction. She glared at Rhett who shrugged and whistled.

Ella and Wade were very well-groomed. The little girl was almost jumping with excitement, but her son was more reserved, almost wary.

Then, finally, the infamous guest arrived with a flourish. He presented Scarlett with a big bouquet that made her almost fall and dropped on his knees as he saw Ella.

"Oh, what do I see there? A little princess!"

Ella blushed, the redness almost becoming on her cheeks, as it accentuated the green of her eyes, bright and soft.

"My lord!"

Rhett chuckled.

"Oh, I've heard you've saved Ella from a terrible monster."

"Oh, yes, he did, Uncle Rhett!" The little girl said brightly. "And then he gave me back to mama, and we went home with Billy!"

"Who is Billy?" Richard asked, confusion in his eyes.

"An orphan boy Scarlett took a fancy to and invited to our house for a few days."

"And where is he, that orphan boy?"

"He needs to rest. The poor thing had been quite beaten up," Scarlett intervened. "I don't understand this. How can people even think of harming a child?"

Richard smiled and raised a glass at her as it was offered to her, and with his air, she could have almost thought he was innocent. The rest of the introduction was silent, as Wade said barely the minimum.

They settled around the table. Scarlett scowled as she saw Rhett's gesture at Prissy, urging her to fill up her plate more. Yet, she did not say anything. It was Rhett that led the conversation, and gripped with a silent worry, she did not find in herself to appreciate his tales and topics.

Uneasy over Richard's speculative gaze on her children, Scarlett sent Ella to sleep once the meal was over, and then turned to Wade.

"Wade, dear, would you mind playing for me?"

Sending them both would only make that damned peacock suspicious, and she didn't want that.

Richard smiled, before turning towards her husband, his hand reaching towards Scarlett.

"Rhett, would you mind terribly…?"

Her husband smiled back, and there was something in his eyes that unsettled her.

"No, of course."

She looked at him, baffled, before accepting to be led by Richard to a wider space.

Wade dropped on a note, surprised, yet she nodded towards him and he continued.

She could not deny Richard Fenton was a good dancer. He certainly knew the steps, and his feet were light. Yet, she did not feel at ease with him. She did not like his hands on her body, at the limits of the decency, and yet claiming too much than she could bear.

"I've dreamt about it since the first time we met. Though it came earlier than I thought. I'm glad your husband invited me."

"Oh, so a dance was all you had in mind?"

He let out a sharp laugh.

"Oh, no, sweet sultana. What I have in mind is so much more… and you know it."

She dropped her gaze demurely and bit the inside of her mouth until she felt the blood coming through her cheeks.

"I think I know," She said softly.

And you're not about to get it.

Yet, he interpreted the look in her eyes like a challenge.

"Soon…"

"Soon," She repeated.

The dance finished and she bowed slightly towards him.

Still on his seat, Rhett was looking at them speculatively.

"Your wife is a delight, my dear Rhett."

"Yes, I dare say she's a better actress than I would have thought she was."

"So are you, husband dear," She muttered through gritted teeth to his ears only as she reached his side.

Why are you looking at me like that? She wanted to scream. Why aren't you looking at _him_?

Abruptly, Wade demanded to be excused, visibly upset. Scarlett nodded, half wanting to follow him. Yet, she knew she had to stay a little more.

"You've certainly charmed Ella," Rhett commented laconically.

"I'm glad of that success," The English lord said. "She's a sweet girl, with pretty eyes," He looked into hers as if to give a deeper meaning to his words. "Though your son doesn't seem to like me very much."

"Wade is still a boy, and very shy. He's not at ease with strangers."

"I shall try harder, then," Richard said with a charming smile. "See, Rhett, I've heard a mother's heart is gotten through her children. Rascal as you are, my friend, would you subscribe to that theory?"

What? Was he such a fool?

She was about to berate him when Rhett roared in laughter.

"Well, no matter what, it certainly would not work with this one. You'll find it hard as a rock."

"Rhett!" She scolded, before turning to Richard. "Excuse me, my lord, I need to go see my children."

He had a new light in his eyes as if he had understood something. There was almost a pity in it, and she couldn't bear it. It confirmed him in his idea of her as a victim, and even if she knew the utility of it, that did not mean she liked it.

"Of course."

She left the room and closed the door behind her, but did not go straight to the nursery. She felt too nervous for that, too filled with a heavy emotion that she felt she couldn't impose on them. She paced a little, gave orders to the kitchen, then came back. But as she was about to open the door, words came to her from the other side and she froze.

"Are you still sure that charming wife of yours holds no interest for you anymore? I would be sad to lose a… friend over such an affair."

"Ashes stay ashes, Dick. It takes more than charms to keep my interests. No, do whatever you want, friend. At least try to."

Ashes stay ashes.

_Ashes stay ashes._

The cold grew in her, hard and gripping. And yet it burned, it hurt like a knife in the heart, where the doubts had been instilled.

She waited a few minutes, then called for tea and coffee to be served. She entered back into the room after composing herself. She felt cold, she felt fake. But at least she knew the hurt would not be shown on her face.

She was silent as they talked, and Rhett sent a surprised glance her way. When came the time for goodbye, Richard kissed her hand too long a time for it to be entirely decent. She looked at him leaving and turned away.

"Scarlett?" Rhett called her. "Is everything alright, dear?"

She could not even bear to meet his eyes.

"No. Not now, Rhett."

She stormed from the room and joined the nursery, where she settled angrily between the children as they played together.

They looked at her with surprise but said nothing. As Ella raised to take a pastry in the kitchen, Wade turned toward his mother, biting his lip as if it hurt to ask it.

"Mother? Do you still love Uncle Rhett?"

She blinked, her anger diminishing.

"Why, yes. Why do you ask?"

"Then why did you dance with that man?" His eyes were confused as they raised to meet hers, confused and almost hurt. "Or can someone love two persons?"

She sighed.

"Darling, it can happen," She put a soothing hand on his cheek, caressing it lightly as it tensed. "But it's not my case. No matter what, my heart belongs to your Uncle Rhett. Now, until my last breath. As it belongs with you, and Ella."

"Then why? I don't like that man, Mother. I don't trust him. I don't… think he's a good man. I don't like how he looks at you, and how he acts."

"I don't like it either."

"Then why do you let him? Why do you act as if you liked it?"

She sighed.

"One day, Wade, you will realize that sometimes some persons are better close to you than far. Even if you have to lie."

His little face distorted in a confused frown, and she felt hopeless at dismissing it.

"I want to understand it now… but I can't. I don't understand why you have to do this. Why Uncle Rhett…"

He stopped.

"What, 'why Uncle Rhett?' What do you mean?"

He shook his head, conflicted.

"I swore it!"

_Ashes stay ashes._

What did words mean?

"Oh, fiddle-dee-dee, Wade Hampton!" She snapped. "You know how I hate it when people are keeping secrets from me."

At the word "hate", Wade's body stiffened, then cowered. Scarlett softened. She saw his fingers fidget on his pants, his eyes becoming bright as if he was about to cry. She took them with her hand, innerved by the nervousness of the gesture, and the way it clenched as she did.

"But I don't hate _you_ , Wade," His head snapped in her direction, then he relaxed. His fingers timidly spread, and she intertwined them softly with hers. "No, never you, my precious boy…"

"Mother?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too," She said softly "You, Ella, and your Uncle Rhett… you are the most important things for me.."

They stayed a while, looking at their intertwined fingers.

"Do you want me to read to you?"

His soft brown eyes stared back at her with a pleading.

"No… Can you... give me a hug, Mother? I…"

She looked at him quietly, before opening her arms.

"No need to explain. Come, my brave boy."

They stayed in each other's embrace for a few minutes, before another body slipped under her arms, and obliged Wade to step back to give her some space. Scarlett was first tempted to chide Ella, but seeing her sheepish grin, she chuckled instead and welcomed her.

"Mama…"

"Yes, Ella?"

"Are you angry with me as well?"

"Why would I be?" She said. "You're my sweet little girl. This is not at you that I'm angry."

She looked at her children, so strong, and yet still so young.

"Mama was worried, so worried. And when I'm worried, I can say bad words and can be mean. But that doesn't mean I don't love you. Never."

"Love you too, mama…"

She cuddled against Scarlett, and her mother put her arms around her more closely as Wade slipped away, feeling another important urge. Relief filled her over that little form in her arms, too little for her age, and yet here and warm.

"Mama…" Ella said after a moment, fidgeting. "I want to go to the orphanage."

"Why, Ella?"

"Billy… he told me a lot of things."

She frowned.

"Ella, you're a little girl, and I'm your mother. I want to protect you."

"But mama…"

"Listen to mama, my sweet-heart. Please. I wouldn't bear it if something happened to you. There are evil people, darling…"

"Like the one that wanted to take me?"

"Like that one," She nodded. "Go see Prissy and Patrick, Ella."

She grinned, showing her crooked teeth at her, and Scarlett felt a painful squeeze of her heart.

"I like Patrick. He's a new one, but he has a funny accent and he tells funny stories and he looks like a bear."

Scarlett winced, before pushing Ella back softly, encouraging her to raise.

"Go to him, sweet-heart. I'm glad you like him."

She watched her go cheerfully, humming to herself, and was almost envious of her carelessness.

"I'll go with you, Mother."

Wade had sneaked at her side, his arms crossed and a serious expression on his face. Yet, she could see that even if he tried to act older than he was, there was still that childish vulnerability that made her think he was not ready to enter the world.

"Wade…"

"I'm almost a man, now!" He protested. "You and Uncle Rhett, you are acting as if I can't see, nor hear anything! But I do! And I want to help!"

She was about to put him back into his place when he insisted, raising bright eyes at her and putting his hand on her arm.

"Please, Mother… Aunt Melly… I know she would have wanted to do something."

She felt herself wavering.

"You're so young…"

"Aunt Melly, she said it did not matter how young you are. If there's good to be done, it has to be done. And if you have the opportunity to see the truth for yourself, you have to take it... I want to see it, Mother."

"You are just like her," She sighed, before nodding. "Fine, you can go."

"And I'm like you," He said with something that almost looked like a smirk.

She blinked, surprised.

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Wade!" She scoffed. "You're cheekier than I thought."

His head lowered, but as she ruffled his hair, she could see the smile had widened a little.

"But you love me anyway. Right?"

She nodded fondly.

"Oh, very right, my boy."

She kissed his forehead lightly, wondering at his evolution.

"Mother…" He added after some time. "What if we took the rest of the food with us, so they can eat it?"

She stopped, uneasy, and then she remembered Tara and all the soldiers that came and went. She remembered her nightmare, her uncertainty.

"I think they already have some, Wade… I'm not sure it'll be appreciated…"

"Some, but not enough. That's what that boy had said to Ella."

She looked at him closely. "Tell me about it."

He did, and she gripped the fabric of her skirt, trying to push back the memories once again.

She hesitated over calling Patrick. Yet, the boy was still in the room, and she didn't know if Rhett would stay that long in the house before supper. He was not even in sight as she called the servants and asked four of them to follow with the rest of the food packed carefully in baskets.

When in the orphanage, Wade was reserved, at first, almost shy. His eyes went on the other children's rags, on the dirty faces that were looking at the food with hungry eyes, and she regretted having taken him with her. She put a hand on his shoulder, about to suggest him to go when he surprised her with the determination in his glare. He took her hand and led her forward, and she gestured at the servants to put the plates on the tables and serve it.

She felt numb seeing the way the children rushed to eat it, some not even minding their manners and taking it with both hands. It filled her with memories she had wanted to forget, and she squeezed Wade's hand a little harder, before leaning on his ear.

"Stay there, my boy. I'm coming back."

There, she turned to the sisters leading the place and demanded words with the Mother Superior.

The woman stood still as she lashed out on her, all her memories and uncertainties taking shape into a rageful reprimand. She could see her eyes flashing in indignation, and when it ended, she seemed almost to the point of exploding like an angry frog.

"I will not let myself be insulted by a fallen woman who dares to tell me what to do with this establishment," She said. "By the laws of God…"

"By the laws of God, no one should be allowed to grow hungry," Scarlett retorted. "And it is the fallen woman that tells you that. I'm glad my sister became a nun and told me the truth about it, or else I would have stayed with a bad taste on my mouth about what our God and our religion demand from even vulnerable children under their charge."

The Mother Superior froze, and an angry blush raised to her forehead.

"Don't ever dare to try to scold me like a child!" Scarlett scoffed. "Or else I can evoke other matters that question me, and that I intend to investigate in there."

Then the saintly woman froze, then took her arm firmly, a hard warning in her eyes.

"You have no idea what you put your foot into, madam."

"Then, we'll have to wait and see. Do not underestimate me… _Madam_. Or else I'll make sure your life becomes a living hell. And yes, I have very much the means to do so."

The Mother Superior released her grip, white as snow, before crossing herself. Scarlett left the room, feeling very much satisfied with herself as she sashayed through the corridors.

"Thank you," She heard at her side.

Surprised, Scarlett looked at a young girl with a veil, staring at her with admiration, before she turned away swiftly. Another looked at her with the same gaze, and she wondered how long the situation had festered like that, without people doing anything, or even daring to.

It somehow made her sad and angry, and she felt less satisfied. She joined Wade, and she felt surprised and proud at seeing him so open and talkative. A little group of children had gathered around him as he told a story, and she realized, astonished, that it was her own, the one she was telling night after night.

As he saw her, he stopped, hesitant. But then she smiled and sat by his side, and continued it.

They did not go through it, as the clock already announced the time for supper. Somehow it was hard to say goodbye to all these little faces, and she found herself promising to come back on the morrow.

Can you see it, Melly? She thought. You can be proud of him. You taught him good. I hope you are glad. I hope you are proud.

She took his hand and squeezed it.

"Promise me, Mother," He said as the doors closed behind them. "Promise me you'll do something. You and Uncle Rhett."

She nodded, taking strength from this tiny hand. "I do, Wade," She said. "I promise it to you."

They went home silently, with the weight of that new promise.

She raised an eyebrow with the number of plates on the table. Yet, she gritted her teeth and said nothing, her anger taking form into heavy eating that amused Rhett, much to her irritation.

Then, she followed the children in the study as they insisted she continued the story, though her heart was not in it.

She scowled at the baskets filled with pastries that had been settled on every solid plane surface, filling the air with an air of sweetness that sickened her soul.

Yet it did not stop her from taking one. For revenge. She settled herself between Wade and Ella. Rhett still did not say anything and seemed content in sitting in the chair near the door, where he could have a better sight of them.

She released an irritated breath of it, before turning towards Ella. Her gaze softened.

"Well, my sweet," She said. "Would you mind telling us what happened the last time?"

"Oh, yes!" The ginger-haired girl replied cheerfully. "Robert left and then there was a peacock and he made Solene sad!"

"He did not make her sad, silly," Wade rectified with a fond smile. "He just made her remember something."

"That wasn't a very nice thing to do!" Ella pouted. "That wasn't happy memories he was making her remember!"

"It was, in a way," Rhett commented, eyeing his wife carefully. "It was the memory of friendship. A lost one, but a happy one, mostly, if I understood well.

She gripped the fabric of her skirt before raising her eyes.

"Yes," She said finally. "But it made Solene thinks. She had so few friends, so few people with whom she felt at ease to talk to."

"Oh, is she shy?" Her daughter asked, cocking her head with surprise.

Scarlett shook her head, amused. "No. But it happens, sometimes. Sometimes, you can feel like you can say everything to people. Other times you don't feel like it. Trusting someone can be hard. As for Solene… let's just say she was not a very nice girl, and the others did not like her very much."

"She must have been lonely."

"She did not like the other girls very much, I bet," Rhett smiled. "She must have been too willful for them."

She ignored his intervention.

"It made her think, and yes, at that time, she felt lonely. And then she remembered Mary was still there, and she was still smiling at her. She realized she had depended on her presence more than she thought. And with that came another realization: that she had depended on another presence as well, but that one was harder to accept now. Especially with what she had heard about him now."

"Who?" Wade asked, curious.

She raised her eyes towards Rhett, finally. There again, she could not help it. Why did the story always have to always turn back to him?

"Robert," He said, and it looked as if his throat was dry.

"Yes," She nodded. "The peacock saw it and asked her about it. She denied it, and the peacock seemed to believe it. But maybe it was because he wanted to believe it. She knew after all he wanted her to break his spell, though she did not know yet how he intended on doing that. All she knew was that it was certainly a price higher than what she wanted to pay.

"'You are better without him,' he said. 'Love would have made everything harder with such a man. He is a very complicated one. I doubt you could handle him, poor woman as you are. He'd want more than just a girl. He'd want a seer, a dancer, a player. He'd want a girl, then a woman, then a pet. He'd want a warrior, but that would be ready to take the clothes of a lady and play the part…"

"That makes a lot of things," Ella commented.

"And not a very accurate view on what Robert would want, from what I'd gather," Rhett said quietly.

"Is it not?" Scarlett raised an eyebrow at him. "The peacock looked closely at Solene who had a troubled expression on her face."

"'And then he's not one to settle. He'd go back to an adventure before you can even release a breath.'

"Oh, but maybe Solene, if she loved him enough, could go on adventures with him?" Wade said with a hopeful glance.

She stared at Rhett who let out nothing, then shook her head.

"It's not that easy, Wade. Solene had still her mission to do. And even if she loved him, sometimes you can't go and leave everything. There was Mary, and Mary was not well enough to be left on her own. Mary…" She paused a little. "Mary was resting at that time, so she did not hear the other words the peacock said. For if she had, it would have shocked her."

"How so?" Ella asked.

"'You're better off without him', he said. 'You're better off without love. Sometimes, love does not end up with a happy ending, especially with a man such as him, that is everywhere and nowhere at the same time. You may not be able to catch him, or he may not let you. And you'll end up sad and despaired like the bitter couple."

"Oh, is it another story?" Wade said with a surprising excitement.

She blinked, then nodded. He smiled, and then she realized he did not want it to end. She smiled back and continued.

"Come closer, pretty lady,' the peacock said. 'And I'll tell you the story of the bitter couple.'"

She paused, relishing on their eagerness.

"And... I'm leaving it all there for tomorrow," She said with a cheeky smile. "Goodnight, my loves"

She kissed them tenderly. Ella pouted, but Wade's grin widened as he led her out of the room. Rhett nodded and followed them and she found herself alone for a moment. She felt relief at that, even if his lack of explanation still irritated her. Among other things.

_Ashes stay ashes._

She shook her head. She would not think of that or she'd snap. She had to focus on another thing.

Pansy had said she had been writing on journals, she remembered. But which one?

She looked through the pile in the paper basket, but couldn't find any mention of it. All these lines, tiny and yet heavy, words she couldn't grasp, realities she could not bear to read. Which one could it be?

"What are you doing, pet?" Rhett's voice rang in the room, and she met his curious glance. "I never thought I'd see the day when you would look at a newspaper other than to see the state of the market. What were you looking for?"

Startled, she let the pages fall on the floor, her eyes widened like those of a doe caught by a hunter. She looked at every one of his movements, from his putting away a tray with two glasses of brandy in it, to his leaning down lightly to take back the pages from the floor.

"Nothing," She said, though her tone was a little too defensive, and she took back swiftly the papers from his grasp, some of it leaving a tearing sound between them. She put it haphazardly on the basket and returned to her place, crossing her arms as the frustration came back in her mind.

He arched an eyebrow at her strange behavior but did not comment further. He stood up, eyeing her with caution. He returned to the tray and handed her one of the glasses.

It made her angrier.

She shook her head.

"No, thank you."

The brow raised higher as he put it back. He shoved his fists in his pockets, and she sighed, recognizing it as a sign of his feeling of powerlessness. He settled on the armchair near the door, his long legs crossing.

"You were… strangely docile, today."

"Isn't this what you wanted?" She cocked her head on one side. "Your friend… seemed decent enough."

"A noncommittal comment, that does not tell me your true thought about him," He chuckled, though his eyes did not carry such a lightness. "Don't break his heart too much, darling. He _is_ my friend, after all."

I can't break something that does not exist, she thought.

"And he saved my life once," He added as if in afterthought.

"That's a story you have yet to tell me."

"Perhaps another time."

Or never.

"What do you want, Rhett ?" She sighed, tired of all of this. "Since our very first meeting, this question has never left my mind when it comes to you. And now, it comes again, and I can't make sense of it."

_Not with what I've heard from you._

She raised from the couch and took a step forward. Then another.

"Yes, Rhett," She said with a husky voice. "What do you want?" Her hand caressed the underside of her neck, before grazing the places she mentioned, her eyes daring him. "Do you want him to… seduce me, touch me? Do you want his hand to caress my skin, from cheek to bosom, until it goes on my hip settling there as his lips meet mine? For his… bare body to be on me as he…"

There were daggers in his eyes and an angry frown on his forehead.

"Stop it, Scarlett."

"I don't understand you!" She snapped, taking a pastry on one of the baskets and throwing it at him. He dodged it easily, his hands gripping painfully the armrests. "One day you say one thing, then you say another! One moment you can't bear to say we're friends, then it seems like it's the only word that comes through your mouth. And then… And then…" _Ashes stay ashes_. She threw another pastry, that left a brown mark on the wall."And I… I can't bear it! Do you want me to fall in love with him?"

He raised abruptly from his chair, fists clenched like he wanted to strike her. Yet, she knew he wouldn't, even in his anger.

"NO!"

The word lingered between them, heavy with the sound of their ragged breathing, and it left her feeling empty and confused.

"Then why did you behave as if you did?"

He turned back and paced, before drinking from his glass and returning to his chair. He said nothing, his finger grazing lightly his mustache as a frown settled back on his face. He had said too much, more than he wanted, and now he wanted to retreat. His mouth was firmly shut, and she knew then that he was contemplating whether he should leave or fight. With a nonchalant air, he took time to take a cigar from his jacket and lightened it, eyeing her as if she were a child doing a tantrum.

At least, he wanted her to feel like that, for then she would have thought he didn't care. But knowing this now, perceiving this intention when other times she had been blind to it, did not lessen the hurt.

She sighed as she fell back on the couch. Her shoulders fell and she felt a little tired.

"Sometimes, you make it willingly difficult for anyone to love you," His face darkened. There was a hopeless in it that made her forgive it all, want to take him into her arms, softly, to kiss his brow, her fingers in his hair as she led his beloved face to her chest. He would hear the beatings of her heart, then, and he would not doubt. And yet... "And I say that as someone who _loves_ you. Sometimes… you ask too much, and let out too little." She could see he was about to protest, so she dismissed it. "And no, don't worry, I don't entertain any false thought of you loving me. I know you don't want me to think that. Yet, it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

She dusted a little her skirt, innerved by his blank stare. Had it only been a dream?

She could see he did not like what he was hearing. And yet, she felt it was needed to be said. If anything was to happen again… Oh, love was sweet. But could it erase all the hurt and sadness?

She needed to prevent herself from going through it again.

"I pity her, you know. This woman you want."

Please. Tell me it's me. Tell me that you love me when you know that I'm awake. Stop playing that game.

"You shouldn't."

She chuckled. Of course, she shouldn't pity herself.

"I do hope it's going to change. For that woman. I do hope you'll trust her and she'll trust you. That you won't hold back as you did before. That she'll… know how to treat you and you'll know how to treat her right."

"What's making you so… considerate concerning this woman you do not know? Well, I did not know you liked the idea of me with another woman."

Your lies are getting worse. You're losing your touch, my love.

"I care about you. And I want you to be happy. But one can never be happy if there's no trust, no honesty. One can never be happy when all of this mingle with hurt and false hopes."

"It's strange of you to say so, my pet," He looked at her pointedly, his fingers gripping the cigar almost as if in defense.

"Is it? I've lived with you after all. I know it. And don't tell me you were happy as well!"

"There were happy moments."

"… there were," She admitted with a wistful smile. "And they are not erased by the bad, though now I see there were a lot of them."

She raised her eyes towards him, bright and green and hopeful.

Tell me about you, my love, she thought. Let me know you. I'll listen, this time.

"Why did you marry me, Rhett?" She said instead, knowing he would not answer if she asked now. "Time and time again, you told me you were not a marrying man. And then, when Frank died, you asked me to marry you? That was… unexpected."

"I did not want to wait to catch you between husbands"

"That's what you told me. But that still does not explain it. Especially when, knowing you as I do, me married to another wouldn't have stopped you from coming to see me and trying to have me."

"That's true," He sighed. "I guess I always intended to have you by my side, and marriage seemed a way to bind you to me. I'm not one to share, and I knew by your education and your stubbornness that if you were married to me, there would be fewer chances for you to run away with another man. But I couldn't tell you that. I knew that's what you wanted to hear, and that you would have been merciless with your rebuttal. That was one pleasure I couldn't afford to give you. And then…"

"Then, what?"

"Then, there was war. There was the cold, the hunger, and the loneliness of it all. I didn't know if I would ever see you again, and sometimes… I thought I might not survive. I had been so careless, with my costume and my two guns. Then, I would imagine you, that day when I left you at Rough and Ready, your wide green eyes on me, the taste of your lips… And I would also remember how you stopped me when Wade called you. And when uncertainty was there, I wondered. What if someone was waiting for me? What would become of my legacy, of all my adventures?" He shrugged, taking another guff of his cigar. "I'm quite ashamed to say at that terrible time, married life did not seem quite the nightmare, then. And I could see no one else than you for me."

"You could have come to see me at Tara."

"Could I have?" He stared, then nodded. "I guess I could have. But then… I did not want to get my hopes up. You certainly did not seem very happy when I left. And when you came to see me in jails… I could not believe my luck."

"And I came to ask you for money."

"To _trick_ me for money…. That was what hurt the most. To be reminded that you did not care for me…"

"I did!" She could not help but protest. "'I've already told you so. I almost forgot. About the money, I mean. I was… actually happy to see you, to hear another one of your jokes as if nothing in the situation touched you, that somehow… And then you saw my hands…. You looked so… angry. And I remembered. And then…"

He sighed.

"Our story is one of missed opportunities, isn't it?"

"It is," She swallowed the sob coming at reminiscing all these things. Too many tears had been spilled. She wanted to smile. To be happy. She wanted to forget. "But that didn't mean it needs to always be so. That's why I hope it'll get better. Your story, I mean."

He looked at her intently, and she felt herself squirming under his scrutiny.

"And yours?"

"Mine?"

"What do you wish for, for your own story?"

She relaxed.

"Happiness. I'm a woman content with simple things, really. Oh, don't look at me like this, I know I can reach it!" She chided. "A man I love and the children by my side, all cared for and content. Tara safe and thriving. Would it be so hard a thing to wish for?"

"That seems far from the woman that declared war in front of the stairs a few days ago, so excuse me if I have doubts on that," He replied, before smiling. "What about dancing?"

"I do like to dance," She put her hands on her hips, a saucy smirk on her lips.

He laughed, his lips stretched in a broad grin with the hints of white teeth and tongue.

"You're pretty good at this, and you know it. I swear, the way your hips sway would awaken even the dead."

She could not help the blush from spreading across her cheeks. Oh, he always did love to shock her so with such talks!

"You're not that bad too."

"Thank you for your crumbs, Mrs. Dives."

"Oh, you know you're the best partner I ever had."

"Yes, I know," He said simply. "Have you ever thought of traveling?"

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett, you're saying nonsense. With children by my side, do you really think I could afford to think of traveling on my own?" She shook her head. "No, society would never have allowed that. And yet… yes, I always wondered…" She paused, before blinking."Is that an invitation?"

"Is it?" His eyes twinkled. "Well, it's a suggestion. For you. You are young. There are so many things to see."

"I'm sure it'll be easy and fascinating. A life with no root. Yet…"

"Yet, what, my dear?"

She sighed.

"My children have their own roots. You told me over and over that I was not a good mother. It seems recently you changed your mind a little on that. And yet… Oh, it would be so much worse, then, don't you think, if I just took them with me, won't it be like taking their lives away from them? It'll be like… taking Tara away from me. I think I could survive everything. But not that. Tara gone…"

"You're so Irish, my dear," He said as he tucked his cigar on the tray. "I certainly never understood your love for that farm."

"You have Irish roots too, though you always deny it. Tara… Tara is me, my memories, and my innocence. Tara is my father, his rough laugh, and curses, his wild escapes on a horse. Tara is my mother, soft and kind, yet nostalgic and less affectionate than I would have wanted her to be. Tara is Mammy, scolding yet loving. It is my sisters too," She chuckled, fondly. "And all of our foolish fights, petty rivalries. Tara is Wade, barely a few years-old, on four trying to plant crops with me. Tara is… Yes, Tara is also Melanie with her brother's sword, coming to defend me from that Yankee…"

"And Tara is Ashley, valiant and honorable, I guess," He said bitterly.

"Tara was never Ashley," she scoffed at such a notion. "Somehow, when I imagined myself with him, I saw Twelve Oaks . Even when he came and tried to help. I saw Twelve Oaks, that perfect, ancient house, with these people, who were exactly what I wished to be. Good-mannered, gentle, well-learned…"

"Dull."

She chuckled.

"Dull." She conceded. "But it was not reachable to me. And even if it had been, I would have been disappointed. I expected too much of it. You were right about that," SHe paused."Tara is my home. Tara is where I always return, when life unsettles me, and I feel sad and lost."

He sighed, before raising and sitting by her side. His hands were joined in front of him as he reflected.

"This house… This house that I've paid for, thinking it would make you happy… It has never been your home, hasn't it?"

She looked down.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," He shook his head. "I'm beginning to understand. And it… never truly was mine, either."

"I tried to. And I was happy too when you let me decorate it, and sometimes, it felt like it…" When she had been sure he would be here, a constant figure in her life, arguing with her and pushing her to her limits at all times, and yet caring. "yet…"

"Yet it was like building and living in a dollhouse, after being deprived for so long and having to be strong for everyone. A dollhouse for a doll."

She shook her head, unsure.

"It was Bonnie's house. She lived all her life in there. But Bonnie was no doll."

"I treated her like that. We did. We were like children fighting over a doll, a pretty one, wanting to have her completely by our side, but not prepared to share. And she was mine, my doll, for I was angry you didn't want to be mine. I took her for my own, trying to justify it by the fact that you wanted her dead…"

Her eyes widened in horror as she recollected it.

"I never…"

"I know that, now. At least, I think I knew that already, even at that time, but then it felt easier to think you meant it. Oh, yes, I know that," He looked at her with a tenderness that gave her hope. "You were afraid. You were a child. A scared child, who had lived terrible things, and that had just begun to take a few steps towards freedom. And yet… I really wanted to have a family with you, pet. That's why it had hurt so much, when you did not want the same. I should have guided you; Helped you. Instead of opposing you at all times. It wasn't… good of me."

She felt her heart squeeze at such an admission.

"Oh, Rhett!" She cried. "We both made mistakes concerning Bonnie. But we loved her… so much. And how could we not? She was… bright, beautiful, willful. Brave and cunning."

"The best of us combined."

"I'd say the best of our innocence combined. Though it makes me wonder how you were as a child."

He smirked and winked.

"I was a hellion. Always doing the wrong thing, talking when nobody wanted me to do so, doing exactly what they feared I would do."

"I would have loved to see that. Though I was not born yet."

"I imagine you," He said with a wistful glance. "Little girl with mischief in your eyes, stomping your feet when something was too long and boring for you. A sweet face when you were being told to be nice, but on further inspection, one could see you were boiling inside. Bursting with life and defiance."

In her mind came an image, and she felt her heart warm from it. On her lips came a wish, though she did not dare say it. It was all too soon. She smiled softly.

"And I imagine you, with your devil may care attitude. Dark eyes twinkling, always looking, pointing. Knowing what they wanted you to do, doing the opposite. But in the end..."

"In the end?"

She paused, wondering how she could go on.

"Didn't that little boy sometimes wanted to be like people wanted him to be? But then, it was too much, too little, and what if it wasn't enough? What if doing your best was not enough to be loved? Was love then conditional? What if people couldn't stand your worst? Then maybe… Maybe that's why…"

"Well, that's certainly a lot of thoughts you put on a poor old rascal like me," He was trying to laugh it off. "Why what, my dear?"

"Why you're always testing. Why sometimes you are gentle, tender, the only one I know I can always count on, and then the next… You have cruel words, cruel gestures and then I feel…"

"What do you feel?"

"Sad. Lost. Unsettled."

There was a light of recognition in his eyes, and she did not quite understand it, not this time. It felt like he had grasped something that had eluded him a long time, and that now what he had heard had given him an answer he hadn't expected. She could not see if it pleased him or not, but the most frustrating thing was not to know what he had understood.

She shook her head, uncertain.

"Bonnie never saw Tara. I… I wish she did."

"I would never have let her go without me."

"You could have come with us. To Tara."

"You would have truly wanted me there?"

"How is that surprising?" She scoffed. "Even when I thought I did not love you, I… I wanted you there."

He seemed to ponder it. And when he did so, he felt so far away she felt ill-at-ease by it.

"It's no use talking about that, is it?" She said warily. "You've already decided you want to go? All these talks about travel… it's also about you, isn't it?"

A corner of his mouth lifted, and there was this mocking flame that had unsettled her so much before, and now that suggested it was the truth. It twinkled like a lighthouse. I am here, they seemed to say.

It felt like a challenge, though. What could he mean by that?

"I will go, indeed."

Could it be another lie? It had to be, with what she knew, now. And yet, why couldn't she see it now, when she felt she had seen more of him than she had in the years they had spent together?

"And you, Rhett? Where are your roots?" She asked, trying to hide the urgency she felt. "Is it in Charleston, as you thought it would be? Or… did you not find it and that's why it's so easy for you to think of leaving?"

Say it, Rhett, she thought. I would like to hear it from you, your eyes on me. Say that your roots are with mine. Say that you want to stay...

Finally, he seemed to reach his decision.

She felt him raise from the couch, the furniture cracking with the lack of him. She gripped the fabric with both of her hands, trying to keep her composure.

_Ashes stay ashes._

She closed her eyes.

"Scarlett…" He said simply, raising, his hand reaching out to her. "Dance with me."

"There's no music," She said spontaneously, unsettled by his demand. Yet, she still took it with a little trembling, faith coming into her heart like a surprise.

"Let's say there is," He said as he held her body against his, his hand softly pressing on her waist. "Let's say it's 'Dixie', and I just paid an awful lot of money to dance with you, shocking all the audience by trying to corrupt a young widow."

They swayed lightly, one step at the time, carefully as if not to make noise. Little by little, she found herself relaxing in his embrace.

"And let's say I agreed to it, shocking even more these old peahens."

One step forward, then two backward. The steps kept getting quicker and quicker as the confidence grew.

He chuckled. "Your eyes would glow, and flash red like some tiny goldfishes in clear green water, and you would tell me that you wanted to dance so much that you would have accepted with the devil himself."

"Well, I did!" She smiled broadly. "You are the devil himself, Rhett Butler, and you know it!"

He chuckled, making her twirl.

"And yet, you're still dancing."

Her laugh rang in the room and she attempted a few steps of a reel, trying to see if he would take the challenge, like before.

"Well, my mother used to say I was like Rose Latulipe."

He adapted himself with almost feline grace, making it seem like it had all been part of the dance already.

"That's quite fitting. Funny how the first time you seem to take interest in anything French other than clothes, it's about Folklore, not classics."

The corner of his mouth raised a little, and he released one of her hands and led her forward, daring her to do more.

"You're such a snob, Rhett," She said tenderly, before shrugging. "Well, it's part of my roots, isn't it? It has to come from time to time."

She twirled a little more, kicked the floor twice with her heels, before returning to his side, putting her palm on the back of his fist. He turned it back, and their fingers intertwined, before he secured her arms on his shoulders, his strong hands leaving a trail of goose flesh as they went from wrist to elbow. He lay them to rest on the small of her back, pushing her lightly against his body. She hummed and put her head on his chest as they swayed a little more.

Her voice was almost shaky as she continued. It was almost a whisper, and he leaned in, as if to hear her better. Her eyes stayed on the crook on his neck, where she could see the tense shape of the veins, feel the heavy raises and falls of his chest and the beatings of his heart.

"Let's say I'm a widow that's still lusting for life. You're a seductive man knowing my secrets and offering me to dance when I shouldn't. I can't hide from you, and I don't like not being able to do so, and yet, here I am, jumping into your trap. And it feels thrilling, like a great adventure. Let's say you come back after, taking the excuse to give some rings back. And you keep on going to see me, offering me gifts that I shouldn't accept, and I'm left wondering. Why does he keep doing so? Why is he playing with me in such a way? What does he truly want? Why do I keep accepting him, imagining myself crushing his heart with pleasure if he declares feelings for me, if I've already decided I wanted another?"

They stopped. Her heart hammered like a woodpecker, and she felt like tiny ants running down her legs. She looked up.

"Let's say I'm a girl, and I'm already falling for you but I just can't bear to admit it."

In his eyes, there was a deep pool of stormy water that was threatening to swallow her whole, and yet, she felt not afraid. Not this time.

"Let's say…"

"Shhh…" She stopped him, putting a finger on his lips.

Raising on her toes, she kissed him.

She felt his lips tremble at her touch, a tremor followed by a slight pressure.

She wanted to cry with joy.

You love me, she thought. You love me. These feelings, so big and so true, they are not mine alone. They are no dream, nor illusion. These words that had been said, they could be trusted. They could be believed in.

"What's this kiss for?"

His lids were still close yet fluttering, his mouth stilled in that position she left it, as if he was still frozen in the moment.

"Because I wanted to." Her eyes were bright as she looked at him. The fire is still burning, my love, she wanted to tell him. There are flames beneath the ashes, no matter what you've said. Can you see it as I do? She went still, waiting. "Someone once told me I need kissing, badly. Yet, there it is. I don't have enough kisses. So it seems I have to take it, not wait for it. And if you intend on going… I guess I will have to take my dose more regularly. If you agree to it, that is…"

The last parts were confused, and to her shame, she felt ill-at-ease, like a fish out of water. She had never been used to demand such things. They had been given to her, even forced on her as a duty. But with Rhett, duty and pleasure had always a wicked way of tangling themselves. She knew she may have had sparks elsewhere, but it was not there that she had warmed herself. And she wanted to show it to him, hoping it might somehow subdue the wariness in his eyes.

"Oh, Scarlett…"

His index grazed her cheekbone softly, following the direction toward her earlobe. She could feel him leaning in.

He was about to kiss her again. She was tempted to let him, with his breath sweet, laced with brandy and cigars. Yet, it was too soon, she felt, for he was still denying publicly that he even cared. Even now he could not bear to trust her, and he was testing her, over and over. She wanted him to stop it. She wanted to tempt him out of his reserve, just like he had been tempting her so many times. She wanted him to claim her as his wife, as he had done once. She wanted him to stop playing with her heart like that, when she was bearing it true for him. She wanted him to lean on her, to be there. How could they love each other if he kept to himself, and when all around them, people were talking about his behavior, hers? She could feel it slipping all away, all the efforts that had been done so that society accepted them again. And he wanted to leave… How could he even think of it, if he truly loved her?

She turned her head softly, her eyes half opened in almost regret. Her cheek grazed slightly his own, and she felt his breath catch as she raised on her toes, her hands still gripping the fabric on his shoulders.

"Goodnight, my love," She whispered in his ear, kissing the junction between the lobe and his jaw. "Goodnight…"

His eyes were dark as the night as she took a step back and let her palms slip to his chest, before falling down at her sides. She turned away swiftly, determined not to be the one to look back.


	21. Chapter 21

The morning had long been Scarlett’s favorite time of the day, though she had learned with Rhett it was also a part he enjoyed, and most likely at her expanse. Before they went on separate beds, he had loved nothing more than awakening her with either kisses or abrupt removals of the blanket and cruel tickles until she begged for mercy. Now, it was a busy part of the day, especially with her new little guest.

At first, she did not know what to do with him. She had called Doctor Meade to attend to his wounds. So in a physical sense, the boy was certainly more than alright. Yet, he was so tongue-tied! That would not do, if she wanted her plan to work. And not as tongue-tied as Wade had been, which had come from a natural shyness and years of being told to be quiet and not disturb the adults. No, this one was stubbornly, almost defiantly tongue-tied, as if anyone in front of him was an enemy.

At least not when it came to Ella, and to an extent, Wade. There, this stubbornness was a more subdued one, and Scarlett knew it was difficult to resist to answer at least one of her girl’s questions.

Still, the boy did not dare to leave his chambers and could be quite vocal about it. In the night, as he screamed, Rhett had prevented her from intervening in anger from lack of sleep, telling her it was dangerous to give the boy a taste of what would be taken from him, and when she hadn’t understood it, he had sighed and compared it to a hungry child being given the most exquisite food, before being left to starve after. She had squirmed with the unfairness of it all, and there he explained with a smile that this was exactly what the boy might feel. Then, she had softened. But still, he wouldn’t leave the rooms, as if afraid the moment he put a foot on the other side, he would be forced out of the house.

And then, there was also the impromptu training Aren had asked her to attend. The man had insisted for her to join him for another fighting lesson in the warehouse, insisting she did it with one of her heaviest dresses, so she could be prepared for anything.

She had more the impression it was to mock her. She had already fallen twice when she had tried to reach him with the stick he had given her and she didn’t want it to continue.

She narrowed her eyes on him as he signaled for a break. In a fit of temper, she took one of the pieces of bread she had brought with her and ate it ferociously. Then, as this one continued to look at her as if he wanted to laugh, she barked at him.

“So, what’s your real name? Are you going to tell me, now? John, Vendredi… or Aren?”

He barely raised his voice.

“Aren is my real name. Before I even arrived in this strange country. I was three, then.”

“And?”

“And that’s all I want to say.”

“Oh. I was expecting a whole story that would bore me to death.”

She let out a fake yawn to prove her point, before seeing he was not even paying attention to her.

“Fiddle-dee-dee! I may not even need this!” She stomped her foot. “I've already killed men that tried to attack me. I think I can defend myself.”

“Yes,” Aren said, unimpressed. “You’ve killed one wasted man one night. Congratulations, your father would be so proud of you.”

She bit her lip in fury, offended. But then, could she really talk of the Yankee with him?

“Shut up!” She snarled. “You know nothing of my father!”

“As a matter of fact, I do,” And suddenly his voice was softer. “For he is the one that saved me.”

She blinked, startled.

“He did?”

“Yes, he did.”

He said nothing more, and she felt incredibly frustrated by this. As time passed, she felt overwhelmed by curiosity, for she could see he did not want to tell it.

She offered him a sweet smile full of dimples and leaned in a connivant way.

“Would you mind telling me your story? Of both of you and Pansy?”

“Oh, I thought it would bore you to death?” He grinned, before shaking his head. “Our story is not one to be told like a secondhand entertainment, Mrs. Butler.”

She snorted. “That seems like one thing she would say.”

His grin widened.

“But if you want some bits, you’ll have to pay.”

“Now, that sounds like something I would say.”

“That’s what Pansy told me. She told me the only thing that would make you want to write was if you were sure to be paid for it graciously.”

“She knows me better than I thought.”

“Well I had to,” An indignant contralto voice retorted. “And that wasn’t even my hardest task.”

Scarlett huffed at Pansy’s intervention but took pleasure in seeing the eagerness and clumsiness of the one who had been mocking her so for the past minutes. There, she could not help but smile and saw that Pansy had the same in her face. She had brought water and other loaves of bread for them, and as they ate, they talked of her contact in the newspaper. Scarlett paid attention to it, curious to see what she could have written about, and decided to check it later.

But as they were about to continue the lesson, Hugh Elsing came, with a terrible expression in his face.

“Mrs. Butler! Mrs. Butler!” He cried. “John! The store… Please, come! They… they have ransacked it!”

‘Who, Hugh?” She raised from her seat, alert. “Oh, please, do tell me!”

“I don’t know all of them... There were women, I see, and I think some came from _that_ house… And then there was Archie…”

“Archie?”

Memories came about that man, the one who had criticized her for the convicts when he had murdered his own wife for cheating on him. The one who eagerly went to talk to Rhett when Ashley had comforted her at the mills…

“I’ve heard he became some kind of guardian to it and…” Hugh’s eyes were wide and distraught. “Oh, Mrs. Butler! The store! It’s terrible!”

Exchanging one glance with Aren, she had followed her manager out and he had described to her the damages in the way. But she would not be content until she saw it herself.

Oh, her dear store! She had suffered for it, taking it from Frank’s incompetent hands to transform it into a success. The clean, attractive shop windows she had taken great care of, exhibiting her most beautiful products. The shelves, properly organized in categories and filled with products she had lovingly selected according to what she thought people needed to buy. Oh, the gay tapestries she had ordered to be stuck on the walls, but not so bright to distract from the objects! 

Most of them were on shatters now, the shells disorganized, some broken. It looked like a battlefield, with the content of numerous jars being spilled on the floor like blood. Some ribbons had been trampled on, some fabrics ripped apart. There were also some feathers, and she tried to remember where it could come from.

Overlooking this, she tried to assess the damages, and it was considerable. She sent Hugh and Charlie to seek the marshals, and she let them be questioned in her office, after saying she had just learned of the events. She sent Aren away, hoping he might get some information with his new role in Belle’s house.

Finally, her heart broken but not vanquished, she wandered in all the parts of the store, trying to see what could be recovered.

It was on one of the darkest corners she saw someone she hadn’t expected to.

Someone she had failed to talk to these days.

“Ashley… what are you doing here?” She called softly, feeling the pity at the sadness that irradiated from him. “Oh, Ashley… What are you doing here? It’s all broken and dirty…You shouldn’t be there all alone and moony.”

And drunk, she realized as she went closer. Old, grey, and drunk.

“Well, you are here, and we're friends, aren’t we?” He said as he turned towards her. “And friends should be allowed to talk whenever they want to... Yes… She told me… Yes, you’ve been waiting too," He raised his empty eyes on her and she shivered as he took a step toward her. "You love me, don’t you, Scarlett? You’ve loved me for so long, and you’ve loved Melly too. Melly loved you so much. She told me she asked you to take care of me. And you’re going to do that, aren’t you?”

“Ashley…”

“And then _she_ told me you’ll have a divorce anyway. That maybe… You just do it to keep up appearances. That maybe… you are waiting… But you’ll come back. Yes, you’ll come back to me. You’ll comfort me. After all, aren’t we friends?”

She had the nagging feeling that “she” wasn’t Melly anymore. But who could it be?

“I see that with his influence lessening on you, you are becoming the lady you should have been so many years before. It is not too late, no. Soon, he will be gone, and you’ll be free… Yes, what she said was right, poor woman as she was. Oh, Scarlett, do you remember? Once you asked me, and then I refused you. I did not think we would be happy, with you so young, with such a passion for living… And, now, you’ll soon be free… And look, you don't have to work at the store anymore... It's all in shatters. Everything is in shatters... Marry me, Scarlett…”

Her eyes widened and she took a step back, but he went closer to her, trying to reach her.

“What?”

“Yes, marry me. You love me, I know. You always did. And I… I love you. I love you as much as I can love anyone now. If you are worried about your reputation tarnishing mine, know that it does not matter. You told me once you would do anything for me…”

She blinked, suddenly overwhelmed with confusion and worry.

“What? What? But Melly…”

“Melly would understand. See, that letter she left me. I think she knew… And she understood… yes, she understood. Here, take it,”. He pressed something into her hands, and she almost let it fall. “Oh, Scarlett, so many years you’ve waited for me. So many years I had kept you at distance, torn by my love for Melanie and… my love for you. She loved us both, you know. And I know you loved her. We loved her so much… And now, she’s gone. And you’re still so full of life, Scarlett. I’ve always envied that. Yes, let’s comfort each other. Let me regain strength in the source of your life and grow like a tree until I can reach the sun and the sky above me. Let’s grant each other that peace…”

“What?”

He was talking about love and marriage, but all she could see in his eyes was grief, melancholia that was overpowering, almost akin to madness. She had the impression he was not talking to someone else, someone above, and unreachable.

“Do you know, my dear, ever since the war, I had had nightmares. Blood all around, mixing with the mud. Our people dying, and their people too. And there was fire too, fire hot and stingy, and I don’t know why, it felt like a victory at that time. A disastrous victory. Long I’ve felt guilty over this, but now I know. You are the fire I want to warm myself into…”

“What? No, I… It can’t be, I…”

“You owe me that, after all. All these years, teasing me, always on my sight, so pretty, so bright. Sometimes even in the corner of my mind, you’ll make your way, and I… I… I couldn’t even look my own wife in the eyes, had to stop myself from screaming your name as I… And then… then… she’s gone! But you’re here…. You’re my friend, you’ve said. And _she_ said. You’ll comfort me… You’ll care for me… And now I gave you Twelve Oaks… I lived in Atlanta because of you… Yes, you owe me…”

From the corner of her sight, she saw Hugh Olsen smirking and leaving, and then she had a nagging feeling about this. Yet, this lack of attention made her not realized she had been cornered until it was too late.

His arms around her, Ashley tried to kiss her, but she slapped him hard, the blood coming to her face like a paint of war.

“Damn you, you wooden-headed… hypocrite… lowdown… Let go of me! I don’t owe you anything!”

“Scarlett…”

“I would suggest you step down from that lady, gentleman. She clearly does not want your attention.”

Ashley and Scarlett both froze, startled.

There stood Richard, a smirk on his lips as he eyed the other man in front of him.

Ashley looked at them both, bewildered, and it seemed suddenly as if he had figured something out. Something so monstrous it scratched his throat to even utter it.

“She was right… You are a poison in men’s blood!”

“Who is _she_?” She stamped her foot, irritated.

But he did not answer her. Instead, he left as if he had been bitten by an angry dog, and she was left alone with Lord Fenton.

There, it all settled down on her mind, and she felt like an insect that had been scrambled under one’s foot.

“Oh…” She let out, her legs failing her.

“Here, here,” Richard said as he helped her to raise, his arms all around her. “It’s over, now.”

She wanted to reject him, to slap him. But here she felt weak. The recent event was still running in her mind and she could not help but blame herself, the other memories proving her right in her current state of mind.

Richard stared at her with a strange glint in his eyes, and she felt as wary of it as she had been with Ashley’s. Had she just escaped one man’s unwanted attentions to be abused by another’s? It seemed so, and she tried to think of a way to get out of this situation. Rhett… Yes, Rhett was waiting for her, and he would open his arms to her. There, she would find peace, and she wouldn’t be afraid.

Her gaze had softened as she stared right ahead, her lips turned with a tender curve.

And there, the glint turned into wonder.

“You know, you remind me of her. Cassandra. Men loved her, desired her. Yet, her eyes were all for me and they couldn’t bear it.”

That brought her back to reality and she looked at him right in the eyes.

“My eyes are only for one. The one who saved me.”

“There is truth in these eyes,” The English lord looked at her intensely. “Well, then, fate is settled.”

Of course, there was the truth, she was tempted to scowl. She only saw Rhett.

Richard kissed her cheek, and she felt cold all over.

Then, swiftly, he left her, his eyes barely leaving her as he did. She raised softly, then joined Charlie and Hugh, that had finished giving their deposition. She tried to get rid of the icy feeling in her heart. She talked to the latter about the auction, for he had accepted to be the auctioneer, then helped to organize the store, hoping to preserve some of the objects that had been thrown down. There, she looked at her chest and felt relieved to see the money was still in it.

Rhett did not come to offer her a picnic. She felt disappointed by this, especially when it would have taken her mind out of what had happened and he would certainly have helped, but then she remembered he hadn’t said he would, and the previous days had been so filled by other things it was justified he wouldn’t think of it!

She thus decided to go home to take a calm meal with the children. However, there was still that letter in her satchel, and she felt its heaviness.

She took refuge in the study. She was filled with frustrated energy, that she failed to contain. She organized the shelves, tidied up the desk. She looked through the papers and finally found some of Pansy’s pamphlets. Yet, she found she was not in the state of understanding them clearly, for they were not the words she was wanted to see. Finally, with a sigh of defeat, she took Melanie’s letter and read it.

_Beloved husband,_

_Oh, my love, how many joyful years have we lived together! In marrying me, you have made me the happiest woman in the world. I have lived in your shadows, taking pleasure in every one of your breaths, knowing that they were for me, and me alone. From the beginning, I had this certainty, that we were meant for each other, for we both loved the same things, and thought alike. You’ve complemented my weaknesses, and from yours, little as they were, I’ve learned to have strengths I did know I could possess._

_I so wish I could have given you another child. I so wish I had been there, to watch over you in person, and to see my son grow. He’s so young, so fragile and precious! My love for him is so overwhelming, for he is a part of you, of me, and the life we shared._

_You can count on Scarlett, dear husband. Oh, my dear sister, how I’ve learned to rely on her so! She’ll take care of you and Beau, just like she took care of us at Tara. I know she will. I will ask her when she comes, for I’m sure she’ll come, but I have no doubt she will not fail me. She never did. She loves us so, and we’ve been like a great family together. She is so strong, so resilient, so full of love. SO many trials have tested her strength. Yet, knowing who loves her, who’ll do anything for her, I know she’ll keep being that incredible woman that supported us despite the odds. Dear Bonnie’s death may have fragilized the bonds she had, yet it cannot have broken them. I have faith in them._

_I want you to be there for her, a friend like always you both had been for one another. She may need you, if one day she doubts… Oh, I know how people are with her. People want what they can’t have, and when they don’t have it, they try to destroy it. I want you to be there for her, like I would have been. I do hope it’s not too much to ask, but in my selfish heart, I cannot help but hope. Oh, if only I had even a hint of her strength in me, maybe I could have… Oh, but it’s too late to think of it now._

_For all these years, dear husband, I thank you with my whole heart, and I wish you the very best._

_As ever, I am, Your ever-faithful wife, Melanie Wilkes_

In this, she did not see anything that would suggest she expected her to marry her husband, to the contrary. Yet, what could have led him to think such a thing?

She remembered his eyes on her, insistent and somehow terrifying, like a dead, yet cold hand reaching out for her soul.

At her second reading, she cried, for there was the proof of Melly’s love and faith in her, and she felt so grateful and so unworthy she was tempted to hide in her room.

No, she would not go to see these peahens. She did not feel the strength to. Everything had already been settled for the auction on the morrow. Yet, she couldn’t stay there and do nothing. It wouldn’t have been right by Melly.

She sent a message to tell her intentions, then changed to go to the orphanage, Wade at her side. His hand in hers, she felt pride at him, and yet she felt ashamed by the state of the store. It was supposed to be her legacy, for Wade and Ella to have after she was gone. And then…

She shook her head. No. She had Tara. And with Rhett by her side, everything would be alright.

Like the other time, they were welcomed for the food and the story, and there was a time when she let Wade tell it, curious to see how he would manage. To her satisfaction, the shyness tended to go away when he told it, and his face was animated. Fortunately, the Mother Superior had been called away and she did not have to bear her hypocrite's face.

When it was finished, one of the sisters, with an ill-at-ease expression in her face, came to see her. Scarlett was irritated by it and urged her to go to the point when she saw after a few minutes it wouldn’t come out.

“Mrs. Butler… I know it’s not my place to say so,” She finally said, looking at her through lashes as if she was some terrible monster. “…and you’ve been so generous sending us all that amount of food, and all these pieces of furniture… yet… I feel like your tales are a little bit… inappropriate for the children?”

“Inappropriate?”

“Well…”

“No, I won’t get out!”

Startled, the two women tried to discern where the call was coming from. With the ruckus, Scarlett did not see Wade immediately, and worry came creeping coldly in her mind, giving shudders along her spine. She left the nun and followed the cries of the children, coming back to the canteen, before realizing most of the noise came from the utility room.

There, she looked at the dirty walls, some stained with traces of humidity and grease, and the floor, almost slippery and brown as if it had been trampled on with mud (which it probably had been). This filthiness was even more brought to her attention that some of the furniture she had sent had been put in there, like that big closet that was now used as a pantry

There, in front of it, Wade was crouched and softly talking, as if to a pet he was trying to reassure as it took refuge under a bed and growled. At his side, there was one of the sisters who was scowling, probably having told him it was no use to do so.

“Come,” She heard him say. “You’re safe now.”

“I don’t want to go _there_.” Was his reply.

“You won’t go there,” He said softly. “I promise.”

After a few minutes of looking at the scene that went on, she was about to intervene when she saw the girl’s tiny hand slip into her son’s. As she went out of her hiding place, little by little, dark curls on shattered rags were shown, and she noticed a hint of blue eyes.

She recognized the girl she had seen at the whorehouse and it made her shudder at the memory. She saw the sister at their side was about to scold the little orphan, so she interrupted her.

“What’s your name, girl?” She asked, trying to hide the trouble in her voice.

The girl barely raised her eyes on her, trembling all over. Wade squeezed a little her hand, and it seemed to give her a little strength, for she replied with a tiny voice.

“Caroline.”

There, at the sound of her voice, Scarlett noticed the apparition of something. She recognized this glint in his eyes, for she had seen in Melly’s face when it came to defending her against her enemies.

“Mother, can we get her out? Just for tonight?” He said suddenly.

“Wade…”

As he could see she was about to chide and refuse him. him, his expression hardened and his posture straightened. His voice raised, firm and detached.

In this way, he almost looked like Rhett, and it hurt to think he could have picked up that way of his, among so many others.

“It is not…” The veiled woman scowled.

“Oh, sorry…” Wade still did not look at the nun but at his mother. “May we get her out, please?”

She stared at him, then nodded, surprised by his sudden determination, and with a sudden fear of losing him if she did not accept.

Like she lost Rhett once…

“Yes. Yes, we will.”

“Mrs. Butler, I have to object…”

There, the frustration was turned towards the nun, who met her fiery glare.

“I’ll take the girl for a few days,” She said with a scolding voice. _Don’t you dare stop me_ , was the added implicit answer.

Who was she to question her?

This gave her even more right to do so! At least, that was one they couldn’t have!

She gestured the servant who escorted her to prepare the girl and dismissed the nun, who went away fuming.

But as they went to the door to leave, other children called, and she felt her now vulnerable heart being torn apart.

“Take me too!”

“Mrs.!”

“Mother!” Screamed another one.

She wanted to scream “I can’t! I can’t house and feed you all!”. Yet, when the door was closed, it was with shame she realized she could. But then the problem was that she did not know how Rhett would react.

As the door closed behind them, she turned towards her son, and she saw he was trembling all over. The situation had taken a toll on him.

“You’ll take care of her personally. If she doesn’t eat, or makes problems, it will be your responsibility,” She told him firmly.

There was still a hint of fight in Wade’s eyes. “I will, Mother.”

“And in a few days, she will have to return,” She added, and Wade’s head lowered. “That was a very reckless thing you asked of me,” His shoulders shook and she softened and took him suddenly in her arms. “And a very nice one.”

He was stiff in her embrace, but she could see in his eyes he wanted to reciprocate and cry.

“Don’t shut me out like that, Wade,” She said, whispering in his ear. “I can't bear it.”

Finally, the mask dropped and he returned her embrace. “Sorry, Mother.”

After some time, she raised and turned to the girl, who still couldn’t look into her eyes.

“There, girl. Come with us. You’ll have food and shelter.”

“And I’ll tell you what happens next in the story,” Wade added, and there was a tiny smile on his face.

As they went home, she let Wade help the girl to settle, and paced, disquiet, in the study. She thought she was going mad with worry as time passed and she imagined how Rhett would react. It was still so very fragile, and he hadn’t wanted her to go to the orphanage…

Then, there was a knock on the door and she hastily sat on the couch, dusted her skirt, and tried to put her hair back to place, though she missed a few strands that hung around her face. Finally, the devil entered, and she held her breath.

In his eyes, there was a mixture of feelings that unsettled her. She thought she discerned worry, but then there was also something darker, and something sad, and an anger that surprised her. He stared at her as if there were a lot of things he wanted to say to her, but he didn’t know with which one he should begin.

She looked at him and hesitated a little, unsure, and a little bit afraid by his gaze that did not reveal her what he was thinking.

Then, it softened.

“Scarlett… I’ve heard about the store.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and she let herself show the distress she had felt at seeing her dear business in such a shatter, the ribbons scrambled on the floor and fabrics torn everywhere.

“Oh, Rhett!”

“I think you’d do better to hire someone to protect it. Perhaps even one to protect you. You’re doing a lot of reckless things, these days, and I… wouldn’t like it if one blamed me because you’ve been attacked.”

There, she could not help but huff.

“No, that’s a sorry attempt at an excuse. You know they’d sooner blame _me_ than you.”

“It’s only a suggestion," He made a nonchalant gesture, as if he did not care. "Tomorrow, it’ll be better if someone was found to protect it.”

He said it was a suggestion, but from the urgency of his reply and the look in his eyes, it sounded more like an order.

“I can do it for you, if you want.”

There again. The words seemed like he was offering his help, but the tone said he had already decided so. The man had already been chosen. She scowled.

“Oh, do you have always the need to control everything? I am beginning to really think 'King' is it.”

He seemed confused by her sudden turn of the conversation, but for her, it felt all so clear.

“King?”

“Rhett King Butler. Yes, it fits,” She nodded and felt satisfied by the way it rang as if it proved her right. “So how does it feel, _my king_?”

He chuckled. “Oh, dear, that’s not it. But I think I enjoy immensely the sound of your voice calling me king.”

“Of course you would,” She muttered in a half-irritated, half-fond way. “You conceited man.”

“Well, darling, consider you are feeding that conceit. Though I think we already talked about what would happen if I were king.”

His eyes were glinting, but she did not remember. And even if she did, she would have certainly wondered why he continued his masquerade of the begrudging husband when his behavior was day after day turning into those of an affectionate one. It would have made her smile to think he couldn’t keep the act for that long.

He sighed in amusement, before changing the subject.

“I’ve heard you just welcomed another orphan to the house. Is it going to be a recurring event?”

“Rec…”

He waved his hands in an irritated way.

“Is it going to happen often?”

“Wade wanted her to come.”

“And you’ve never been known to refuse anything from your children.”

She was about to retort in anger at this unfairness when Prissy’s stringing voice rang in the room.

“Supper is served!”

“We’ll continue this later, Scarlett.”

He passed her without a look, and she had the feeling he had been dancing around another subject, and that when he would finally tackle it, she would not like it.

As food was served, she noticed their new guest, as the other, had not dared to go dining with them. Wade had shrugged with an air of helplessness. She tried to eat, but still, anxiety came like ants on her body as she did not exactly know what to expect once Rhett and she would be alone.

When they came to the study, Wade faithfully tried to get Caroline out of the room, and it seemed he failed miserably, especially when she saw Rhett and took on his big, imposing figure. Yet, her boy kept trying and finally, she followed them.

The girl sat in a corner, but did not say a word. Diligently, Wade offered her a cushion, then took his place at his mother’s side.

Scarlett did not feel it in her heart to tell the tale she had prepared last night. It felt too bitter when her mind were still Melly’s last words, the scenes in the store, and the orphanage and she felt the need to talk about it.

Oh, Melly… If only I had seen it, then! She lamented in her mind. You were the dearest friend I ever had, soft and loyal, and I did not deserve you!

“As the peacock was about to tell his story,” She said after a moment. “Mary woke up and went to see Solene. The peacock stopped and was surprised by her presence, and as he saw how pure-hearted she was, he left as if he had been burned.

“’Oh,’ Mary protested, upset. ‘Why did he go away? Did I scare him?’

“Solene, that had been softened by her recent realization and memories, hugged her and said: ‘Oh, no, sweet one, you did not. He was about to leave anyway.’

“Mary, surprised by such a gesture, cried with happiness and called her sister, and the two cried in silence, relieved to be together and alive after so many adventures, and worry for the next ones.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Ella said contently.

“It was a very rare tender moment,” Rhett commented with his jeering smile, before it softened as she jumped a little. “Yet precious. I’m sure it was better to face it with a friend, rather than be alone.”

Scarlett lowered her gaze. “It was,” She said simply. “Yet, they had to move on. They couldn’t always stay on the island. Especially when they realized something…”

“Oh, was there a wolf on the island?” Ella cried eagerly, and Scarlett noticed at the corner of her eyes that Caroline had flinched at the mention.

“Or a tiger?” Wade joined in.

“Or maybe the island was in fact a giant turtle,” Rhett said with amusement.

Scarlett cocked an eyebrow at him. “A turtle? An island? What nonsense are you saying, husband?”

Rhett shrugged. “Well, I’ve heard it can happen.”

“Not in this story.”

“A shame. It would have added a little fantasy in it.”

“Aren’t there enough fantasy in it?”

His eyes were twinkling. “I thought you would add a lot of them, as you’re still so full of dreams for a practical woman.”

“And dreamy, certainly,” She batted her lashes, before remembering there were children and clearing her throat. “No, the two women went away because they didn’t like to stay there, and there were still so many things to do. On the way, Solene, who had always thought mostly of herself, turned to her newfound friend.

“’I haven’t asked you that,’ She said. ‘But I already told you what I wanted to do. But what about you? What do you want?’

“Mary gave the same answer she had given the old woman from the other time: for her loved ones to be happy and safe.

“’Oh, I’ve heard that,’ Solene said. ‘But what do you want for your own?’

“There, Mary blushed and looked down. “I want to see him again. My betrothed. I want us to be married, and have his children.’

At her side, she saw Rhett’s fists being shoved in his pockets as he crossed his legs.

“Solene raised an eyebrow at her. ‘That’s not what you want for yourself,’ she said. ‘A boy, fiddle-dee-dee, there’s no lacking of them in the whole world!’

Her husband looked at her in surprise, then let out a roar of laughter.

“That’s true!” Ella intervened eagerly. “There are too many boys!”

“That’s not true!” Wade protested. “I’ve heard there are more women than men…”

“So maybe we should rule the world!” Her daughter raised her hands enthusiastically.

Still laughing, Rhett was no help at all.

“Here, here, children,” Scarlett tried to appease them. “Solene said it not to cause such a ruckus. She said it because, in her mind, Mary seemed too perfect. She was… gentle, generous… Always smiling… So loving,” She bit her lips, then exhaled. She continued in a soft voice. “She was everything Solene was not and to see such a person… Solene was a bit jealous, and it would have reassured her very much if Mary had a flaw.”

“Oh, just like I’m jealous of Susan!” Ella said. “She is so clever, and she has the brightest of blond hair! And me…” She pouted, a frown coming to her little face. “No one likes ginger hair.”

“I do,” Rhett said tenderly, caressing her hair. “I like them very much.

At this, Scarlett felt she would pass out from the amount of love she felt. This was also why she felt so startled when she felt his gaze on her.

“Yes, yes, they are very nice!” She blurted out.

Ella’s face brightened at their praise, and there, Scarlett saw Caroline was leaving the room silently, a sad expression on hers.

Scarlett cleared her throat.

“I think we should leave it to that, children,” She said. “The day had been long.”

Ella protested, but then Wade, having seen the girl he was responsible out of the room, nodded, and, after the usual goodnight kiss, escorted her to the nursery.

She looked at them leaving, then settled back on the couch, weary. At her side, Rhett was observing her quietly. But she was still too deep in her thoughts to entirely notice it. She remembered the nun’s words and wondered.

“Rhett… do you think my tales are inappropriate for children?”

He blinked, then relaxed.

“I did not dare to say so, my pet, but then you seemed so far gone with it.”

“Since when do you not dare?” She scowled. “You’ve never been afraid to tell me the truth, especially when it hurt.”

“That’s not true.”

She saw that he was hesitating though between two actions and that unnerved her. Finally, he sighed.

“Your tales… are not what any lady and gentleman would consider appropriate. Because they talk of dark matters in life and how some can learn from it, and only a few ladies and gentlemen can bear to look at it. But that’s also why the children like them. It gives them the impression one understands them and does not want to keep them in the dark, which is a very frustrating thing for children. Believe me, my dear. I’ve heard terrible stories, ones that would make your hair raise. Yours is not one of them.”

She pondered these words carefully. They were not exactly compliments, but they were certainly not insults, and she felt glad to see the honesty in it. Yet, at the end of this reflection, she felt too weary to reply to it.

“Rhett?” She said instead. “Could you bring me some brandy, please?”

He observed her a little more, then nodded.

Waiting for him, she tried to relax, or at least calm the agitation on her mind. There, she decided to see what it was all about with Pansy’s anonymous articles. Certainly, now that Melly’s letter had been opened, she could. She took one haphazardly, squinted a little as she tried, but she felt disturbed to see that this time her weary eyes could not bear to read a line without the letters becoming blurry.

“Still looking through the newspaper, my pet?” The voice of her husband interrupted her as he put the tray on the table. “Are you finally going to tell me what you’re looking for?”

She raised her eyes at him and at that moment, they seemed like those of a cat that had been caught stealing a fish from the pantry. She looked at the paper again, then finally gave in. He was there, after all, and it had been so pleasant, the last time when he had read to her!

Funny how when others had read to her, she had found it boring and dull, and when it was Rhett’s formidable bass voice, with all the tones he used to give life to the story, she was drawn to it, appeased and content.

She wanted to hear him again.

“Rhett, could you read it to me?”

He looked at her, surprised, then nodded and settled at her side with the paper. She felt he was satisfied to see her suggesting it. It made his muscles relax when she had seen moments before they had seemed tense, like those of a panther about to pounce on its prey. She put her head on his shoulder, his drawling Charlestonian voice like a caress on her ears, and she felt his hand taking her, the thumb drawing light circles on it. He stopped his reading and explained when he could see she did not understand some parts, and she felt it had been such a long time since he had been so open, so ready to explain things without mocking her ignorance. She nodded through the explanations and urged him to continue. When it was over, they looked at the paper, as if at loss of what to say.

Scarlett knew at least why she wasn’t talking. What was written seemed so different from what she had seen, and she now realized how limited it was. She tried to protest it, to think that Tara was different. And yet came the remembrance that only a few of their slaves had stayed when war came to it.

Finally, it was Rhett that broke the silence.

“That’s a nice style. A bit direct and unsophisticated, but it goes to the point. I’m surprised it interests you. Well, it certainly will not please the other Southerners.”

There was lightness and jeering in his tone, but as always it didn’t seem to be only jeering at others.

“What about you, Rhett?”

He blinked, startled.

“Me?” He looked at her in a strange way. “It’s strange you would ask my opinion, pet. You never did.”

She shrugged.

“That’s because you’ve never waited for me to give it.”

He let out a laugh. “True enough.”

She saw him look once again at the paper, but she doubted he was seeing the letters. He seemed far away, yet with a vulnerability that broke her heart.

“You know, my father owned a rice plantation, and ruled it with an iron fist. ‘Time is money, money that I lose if nothing is at its place’ would he say, and damn that was one of the things I hated most about him. Surprising how only _my_ money was that offensive to him. And then I saw it. Have you seen a slave beaten to death, Scarlett? No, I don’t suppose you did. Your father was not one to do so, nor demand it. It was a boy, barely a few years older than me. I always had him with me, as I went with the others on foolish errands. The more time passed, the more untamed I became. Until one day I found out where was my limit. I… freed that slave. Helped him to escape. When my father found out, he made everything to get him back. Then he made me watch. ‘This is the price of your recklessness,’ he had said. ‘You may not be the one that held the whip, but it is you who made it so.’… Then… That’s when I decided I’ll never be like my father. That I’ll try to escape. That and their nonsensical way of life, their little hypocrisies and pettiness that I couldn’t bear anymore. And then, one month later, an accident forced me to stay longer than what was necessary on a carriage with an insipid girl. That was the last straw. For him and for me. That’s when I decided to make sure to always be the one that holds the whip. So then I can be the one to decide to use it or not.”

He paused, and she examined him closely. The flaring nostrils, the haunted eyes, and the firm cutting jaw. What a torturous man she had married, she thought, and she loved him all the more for it. In him, she could see her own fear in letting someone else decide of their fate, and though she was still barely grasping the extent of the injustice of it all, she could see now how revolting it was.

She squeezed his hand in support, hoping it would be enough to convey how much she felt for him.

“You’ve never told me this story.”

“I never wanted to think about it.”

“And now you’ve told it to me,” She felt him tense under her. “Thank you.”

He looked at her with a surprise that seemed akin to wonder, and an intense feeling of giddiness came over her at being the center of his attention, and this time not being for one thing he thought she was doing wrong.

“Maybe they are right,” She finally found her voice back. “The one who writes it. How can it be that one part of the people would have the right to rule another?”

He let out an amused smile.

“By God, Scarlett, are you going to be one of those suffragists?”

She looked at him with wide eyes.

“Suffra-… Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett Butler! Use normal words!”

“People who fight for their convictions that anyone should be allowed to vote, and sometimes are ready to do everything for it to be true, even to the expanse of their own well-being.”

“Well, I’m not an… whatever you say,” She crossed her arms, pouting as he chuckled. “And I doubt that my voice would change anything about it, with the reputation I have. Yet” she said with a softer voice. “Maybe for other things… Yes, I could be of help.”

“For what things, darling?”

“The orphanage, for example. Oh, Rhett, what happens in it…”

She felt him stiffened under her, his hand leaving hers as he raised. 

“And how did you discover that, I wonder? In which place have you been to learn such a thing?” He said in his jeering tone, a bland cruelty in his eyes she hadn’t seen for days. “Or… maybe someone told you?”

She was startled at the change, and for a time wondered what could have brought it. But then she remembered her encounter with Aren, Todd, and Patrick, and she felt the unease covering her like a damp blanket.

She couldn’t tell him of the night she followed him to that house. Oh, the shame! And he already seemed so angry!

Who? He had asked who? Yes, she thought. That could set him in the other way, and he would not suspect she had seen it herself.

“Yes! That’s it!”

“Who?”

She blinked stupidly, before realizing that by wanting to avoid it, she had dug a hole larger than she had expected. She scowled.

“Does it matter who?”

“It matters to me,” Was his sharp reply. “Who told you that? For whom do you work for? Who do you seek to impress with that act of charity? Now you can admit it to me. I hope it’s not your precious Ashley, I had been so pleased in seeing you grow up.”

There was a strange glint in his eyes, and she wondered for a time if he was jealous. But how so?

“No, it’s not!” She scolded, offended. “ I do it for myself”

“Then who told you about it?” He growled. “For I’m sure you did not figure it out on your own. You may have many similarities with a cat, my dear, but curiosity is not one of them. Fortunately.”

She lowered her gaze.

“It’s… Todd Smith. But don’t be mad”

“Oh, that nosy fool! When I’ll see him! Don’t you see it’s dangerous?”

She raised her head, the slanting green eyes flashing in a dangerous flash.

“And how is it wrong that I know such a thing! That he dared to tell me such a reality, clearly showing me then that he thought me strong enough to hear it? Not everyone likes to keep me in the dark like you seem to enjoy doing…”

“I don’t enjoy it!” “

“Then why are you doing it? Beside… you insult me! Can’t I just work for myself? Does it have to be because of a man?” She stopped, trying to regain her breath. “You said I was doing good as a mother… Was it all a lie or do you truly believe me that heartless not to care when I see children going through that thing?”

She sighed as she gathered her thoughts.

“I admit I was not genuine the first time I came. I wanted…” She hesitated, before shaking her head. It was Rhett she was talking to! She always could tell him everything, especially the things she knew others would not bear. “I wanted to be accepted. I thought… Well, you already told me once: everyone loves children. Or at least pretend they love them. I thought if I could just associate myself with that, maybe it would work. Maybe then they wouldn’t see me in such a dark light. Maybe then Wade and Ella would at least be accepted again, and not lonely,” She saw he was about to intervene, but she was not ready to let him talk yet. “And then… Then, I saw the looks in their eyes. The hunger, Rhett. It felt… oh, it felt just like at Tara, and I remembered… Yet, I could see there was something wrong, so terribly wrong, and I saw… Oh, never mind what I saw, or where! The questions never stopped. And I knew you did not want to answer these questions, so I say, why not ask someone else? Mr. Smith was there, and he told me. And now… Oh, Rhett, how would I be able to look at me in the mirror if I let this go? What would Melly think of me? What would my mother? And now, each time I look at my children, I can’t help but ask myself… what if it was them?”

As she lowered her gaze filled with shame and guilt she had tried to conceal so many time, she couldn’t see the regret in Rhett's.

“I’m sorry, Scarlett,” He shook his head. “I got carried away.”

She raised her head defiantly, before softening at the apology in his eyes.

“Rhett, this could be Ella! This could be Bonnie!”

His fists clenched.

“This could never have been Bonnie,” He growled. “I wouldn’t have let it.”

“And I wouldn’t let Ella,” She retorted. “Don’t you dare to stop me with that.”

“You can’t go and change the world because suddenly you realize something.”

“Well, what do you want me to do, Rhett? Turn away now so that it might not bother me anymore? I’ve been blind to many things my whole life, and sometimes with my own fault because I didn’t want to see. I am sick of it! So don’t you dare stop me!”

“I won’t. No, I can see it in your eyes you won’t stop even if I tell you so. Instead, I will help.”

“You will?”

He smiled lightly.

“Don’t look so bewildered. It’s not every day that I see a woman like you deciding to do such a good deal. Who would I be if I stopped you?”

She let out a relieved laugh.

“Thank you!” She said softly as she raised to join him. Yet, she stopped before embracing him, unsure. “I’m glad that you… you…”

“Oh, because you think I’ll do it freely? I think I told you once I always get paid”

There was a twinkle in his eyes that made her smile. Oh, Rhett, she thought fondly.

“How much?”

“You ask the wrong question, my greedy little wife,”

“And what is the right question, husband?”

“The right question is… what?”

Her throat felt dry as she suddenly remembered a night of passion, years ago, when she had felt he was baring his soul to her, and urging her to do the same. She felt a deep need build up in the pit of her stomach, expectant and yet uneasy still with the admission of its own presence.

“What would you want?”

He observed her for a while then chuckled, taking a step forward. His fingers found one errand strand of hair and played with it, his thumb sometimes grazing her cheek.

“Oh, Scarlett, I’ll not ask you to open your bed for me in payment for such a thing. You’re still so bad at hiding your thoughts from me, my pet. I did say by the end of the week or so, you’ll ask me yourself, and I very much intend to see these pretty lips beg for me to take you… Yet…” There, it seemed like he was talking to himself, slowly, as if to convince himself. “Yes… _Let lips do what hands do: they pray, grant though, lest faith turns to despair_ …”

“What?” She blinked, then scowled. “Can’t you speak with your own words?”

He grinned, but there was still some darkness in his eyes.

“Oh, Scarlett, I should have known that though your view has widened considerably, there are still some terrible lacks. Oh, no, don’t scowl, you’ll only make me smile harder. What I want is… a taste. Yes, a taste. Of the good old times.”

She lifted an eyebrow at him.

“A taste?”

His brows waggled, his eyes shining in amusement.

“Do I have to spell everything for you?”

“Oh, I know very well what a taste, is, thank you, but I’m not sure if your help is worth it,” She batted her eyelashes.

“You’re right. My help is worth more than it.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Oh? Well, then, I guess I’ll keep it. Maybe others would be interested.”

“Oh, well, then, damn you!”

He took her in his arms, and there she knew she was all gone and happy so.

That kiss was possessive and fierce. His lips pressed her almost harshly, his tongue grazing sensually the opening of her mouth until she gave in and let him in. She shivered deliciously as they met, though it seemed like a war she had already lost. He entered it with a growl, and she felt no other choice but to bend to him, her body melting under him. His grip was hard on her, and she felt so tightly pressed against his body it seemed she could barely breathe, nor distinguish the quick thudding of her heart from his.

“Rhett,” She managed to say when finally his lips left hers. Her voice was feeble, yet wanting. “You’re holding me too strongly.”

“I am a strong man, Scarlett. Certainly, by now you know it.”

He took once again her mouth with his, and bit lightly the lower lip before his tongue joined hers. One hand raised to meet the back of her neck, the other settled on her lower back.

She felt dizzy by it.

“What’s that kiss for?” She said, breathless, when it ended.

“Well, didn’t you say you needed kisses badly?” His eyes were bland as they were on hers, yet there was a hardness in the set of his jaw that betrayed a stronger feeling. “Or maybe you found another place to take them?”

She looked at him closely, at his barely concealed need and deep insecurity that now she could see clearly, and wondered at the latter. Had he learned about what happened with Ashley? If so, was he aware it had been forced on her and she had rejected him?

Was he aware of Richard’s intervention?

The idea made her shiver, and yet, she felt oddly satisfied to think of him as jealous. It made her warm all over, for it was like he wanted to claim her, just like she wanted to be claimed. Just like she wanted to claim him.

“No,” She stroke his cheek with a tenderness that provoked a slight tremor on his lips as his eyes kept searching on her face for a lie. “These are the only ones I want and need.”

His eyes gleamed. She saw the dare in it before the words even left his mouth.

“Then come take them if you want them.”

In the end, she didn’t know if she was the one to take it, for it seemed they both met each other half-way. She put her fingers in his hair, gripping so hard she thought it would hurt. Yet, he only moaned, and his arms pressed her harder against him.

“You know,” She said with a husky voice that betrayed a warning through the kisses. “our marriage made me realize something, at least.”

“What, my dear?”

Her lips stretched, teasing and she stopped, feeling satisfied with herself as she saw the glimpse of disappointment in his eyes as she leaned back.

“What I want in a husband. I don’t want half a man, trying to conceal everything to me. To such a man, I could only give only half of me, and I doubt it’d be enjoyable for both of us. I want my man to be true to me, to accept to lean on me, just like I would on him. I don’t want to be a pet, nor a child for him.”

“You’re asking a lot. And ‘pet’ is a charming nickname for a woman so alike a cat like you, don’t you think?”

She met his mocking gaze with her serious one.

“No, it is not. And I’ve seen what happens when it’s not the case. I want my man to love me, trust me, and respect me. I want to be able to trust him. I want to be the equal of that man, or else on the way to be, and I want him to accept me as such, and to help me reach it, not sabotage me. I want him to fight with me, not against me. Is it too much to ask?”

“That only happens once in a lifetime. Certainly, you must realize it.”

His grip tightened on her waist. It sounded like a warning. As if he was threatening her of dire consequences if she ever looked for it elsewhere.

She wanted to scoff at the idea.

“I know. To such a man, I will never even have the idea of holding a whip against him. Except,” And this time the warning was hers, and the green was dangerously bright on him. “if for him there are other beds and other women in it.”

His eyes softened and it made her heart thud lightly.

“I’m sure no man who loves you could be unfaithful if he feels there’s only the two of you in your bed and you give him all of your love.”

She smiled softly, her throat thick with emotion.

“Then, I’ll make sure he knows of my love every step of the way, and he’ll have no doubt,” Her lips stretched, and her cheeks blushed at the boldness of her next statement. “And I’ll make sure to keep the bed warm only for him.”

She forgot the fact that her mother must be rolling in her grave as his eyes twinkled, and suddenly they were all she could see. She pressed his lips lightly on his and he reciprocated. She felt his hands reaching the laces of her corset, slowly untangling them, and she hummed through their kiss, in her grip ripping a few buttons of his shirt, leaving a piece of warm, swarthy skin she lay her hands on. It seemed to embolden him, for his mouth suddenly forced hers apart, and she felt the strength of his passion like a sudden wave of summer heat. She held on to it with a need akin to his own, until it left both of them breathless and they had to stop. Forehead against forehead, ragged breath meeting ragged breath, they looked at each other and saw the same thing. He leaned in once again to take her tingling lips with his, but she stopped him, putting slowly her small hand on his half-opened mouth. Softly, she traced his mustache with her fingers. She pressed her lips together at his questioning glance, before taking a step back.

She took a little while to compose herself and calm her poor thumping heart. He was watching her intently, in a way that made her shiver and squirm, like a call she desperately wanted to answer, yet did not dare to.

“Kisses are sweet, husband. But if you want more, you’ll need to do much more than that. I’m no easy woman and I won’t be treated as much, without any guarantee,” She looked at his lips one last time. “Goodnight, my love.”

As she slipped from his embrace and turned away, she heard his voice behind her. “Aren’t you going to kiss me goodnight, _honey_?”

She let out a joyful snort, remembering one day when she was the one asking for another. She looked at him straight in the eyes, amused, then tried to imitate his drawling voice, a smile unfortunately too loving to be mocking on her lips: “Don’t you think you’ve had enough kissing for one evening, _my king_?”

His laugh was genuine with delight as she left the room with a wink after blowing a kiss at him.

He was not calling her queen yet. But she knew he would. In time.


	22. Chapter 22

There was a whole uproar that day in the Butler's house. Employees were running swiftly, hoping not to get in the way of the mistress, who was briskly shouting orders, berating them when her sharp eyes noticed something she did not like.

"Here! Come on, come on! We don't have much time for that! Charlie, put down that chandelier here, it will be most fitting. Ryan, what are you waiting for? Hurry, hurry! Oh, no Prissy, not in there! And what are you doing here, by the way? Why aren't you with the children?"

"Patrick is wit dem, Miz Scarlett."

"Then go join them!" She replied, exasperated, before turning back to the sound of silver falling on the floor. "No, Ryan, no!"

"Now, darling, stop ordering around these poor fellows," Rhett's amused voice raised in the room, making Scarlett froze. "I think they know what they're doing."

She turned towards her husband, pouting.

"But, Rhett…"

"Now, don't you look at me like that, my dear. I know you're quite in a fuzzy, but I think there's a more important matter I want to discuss with you."

She winced. It had been the second time this day he had said that kind of things, and the first time, she had thought he was about to tell her of his undying love and said he was going to stay with her.

But no. It wasn't even an important matter actually, more like some trivial thing about what he should bring for some carnival of Venice or anything. No matter which Venice. As if she had grown overnight an expert at such things!

He had talked a lot about traveling these days, and this morning, France and Italy had been on his mind notably, and she couldn't count the numbers of magazines on it that he had left all around the place.

Certainly, he did not think of leaving her? Them?

She wanted to believe he didn't, but the fear was still there, and she did not dare to say anything about it. And somehow, it seemed to disappoint him. He didn't really think she'd be _happy_ that he thought of leaving, did he?

Did he want her to beg for him to stay? Not even in his life! She had already begged too many times.

But then what? There was a thing he wanted her to say, she knew that. She could feel it. But what? This was the mystery, and she felt frustrated by it. And these talks about the wonders of the French capital, the fashion and delicacies were not ones to put her at ease, especially when she could see how tempting it was.

Why, she had never left America, and, if there weren't these miserable visits in Charleston and one time she went to Saratoga as a young girl, she could say she had never really left her native Georgia. How unfair to be a woman and not to be allowed to travel as a man would!

She was jealous of it. Jealous but also very much afraid. She knew her husband. If he wanted to leave, he would most certainly.

Or maybe if she was the one to bring divorce up? Maybe it would force him to admit his feelings and stay?

The idea was in her mind, and though tempting, she dismissed it. For now. She would only use it in the last resort, she decided.

She heard Ryan's clumsy steps and scowled.

"No, Ryan, don't put the box there! I told you you had to put it on the oak table, besides the little porcelain angels!"

Rhett turned toward the poor lad and seemed to notice what he was holding. He froze, his gaze questioning on his wife.

"Your jewelry box, my p… my dear?" He asked, surprised. "By God, you are committed! Even your jewels?"

She rolled her eyes, impatient.

"Fiddle-dee-dee! My jewels! Of course, not. Just the box. And a little surprise inside, if they found a way to open it."

She had emptied it cautiously, and put in there the contracts Aren had procured her this morning, with the seal of the English Lord falsified in it with thoroughness, so much that it all seemed true. She had added in her vanity one about the ownership of the orphanage, hoping whoever found it when it was time linked the two actions more easily. Oh, it was sure to work, she thought with satisfaction as she had locked it and kept the key.

Rhett laughed.

"Now, my dear, seeing that glint in your eyes, I fear for the poor lady or fellow. No doubt, you might have put a real snake in it."

She batted her lashes. "How you do run on, Rhett! Of course not a snake."

"Not a snake, then. What, then?"

She smiled teasingly. "That's a surprise, dear husband."

And one you might actually like when it is revealed, she thought with satisfaction. For sure, when he'd learn about what she was ready to do when her family was threatened, he'd be impressed.

"Miz…"

She rolled her eyes, turning toward the servant that was calling her.

"What now, Prissy?"

"Miz Ella want see you, Miz Scarlett."

She sighed, but secretly grateful at this intervention, if only it meant she wouldn't have to hear Rhett talk about the wonders of the world when she wanted him to see he'd gain more at staying.

She joined Ella in the nursery, the little girl pouting in front of her mirror while Patrick, that big Scottish giant, didn't seem to know what to do. She dismissed him with a smile, asking him to join Wade.

"What's going on, sweetheart?" She said as she knelt before her. "You know Mama is busy… Why aren't you outside, preparing the games with Wade and Caroline? You know there'll be other children coming, and it'd be a shame if everything wasn't."

Her boy had taken his role quite seriously, and had taken the girl with him (though it seemed she would have followed him anywhere, and Scarlett wondered if something might have happened during the night for her to seek even more closely Wade's presence), but Ella did not seem to take interest in it. Instead, she had turned into Prissy and Patrick's nightmare by her indecision on what to wear for the day. Billy for a moment had seemed to want to leave his room, hearing her cries, but then as he saw her mother, he had turned back to it.

Well, it was better like that. She preferred him out of that damned peacock's way.

The girl stared at her with determination, though her lower lip trembled a little.

"Mama… I want you to wear that necklace. It's too big for me."

"Ella?"

With a swift move, Scarlett's daughter put it on her palm and mouthed a teary "please." Her mother paused, staring at the heavy object.

"Have you talked about Uncle Rhett of that necklace?"

She lowered her eyes, ashamed. "No… Oh, I'm a bad girl, am I not?"

"Oh no, Ella, no…" Scarlett tried to soothe her.

"It's just… I wanted it to be my secret, my own. And it _looked_ like something secret. But then… I don't want my lord Fenton to think I'm ungrateful and don't like it. So could you wear it for me?"

She pondered the question, conflicted. What if Rhett recognized it and wondered?

"Please, mama?"

She looked at her child, so innocent and sweet, despite her not being a great beauty. Poor girl, she had the features of her father, despite the eyes that came from her. And there was a little roughness on her face that was hers alone, or maybe Scarlett's fault, she didn't know. Yet, she loved her, her little girl, and she didn't want to disappoint her, for she knew she had already disappointed her so many times before.

"… Alright, sweetheart, I will. But only this once."

Let him wonder, she thought. Maybe it would make him react, and he wouldn't think of leaving.

"Thank you!"

To her surprise, Ella jumped into her arms, and Scarlett almost fell on her back, before embracing her back. Yes, she would do so, she thought as she kissed that sweet head with these curly ginger hairs.

She took the necklace and looked at it. For sure, she had been right when she thought it was no little girl's necklace, and he had seemed to confirm her morbid suspicion. Yes, it was very much a choker, with a silver-plated lace and what looked like little rubies and pearls. She put it on her neck, and it gave her a nagging feeling of oppression, like she wasn't supposed to be the one wearing it.

Agitated, she changed into a lilac dress to lighten up her mood. She didn't want to wear black today. After all, there was hope, and she had been in the dark for too long. Lilac was a good color, and would be accepted.

And lilac had always been Melly's favorite color.

Squaring her shoulders, she checked the details of the final preparations, then she joined Rhett's side. His eyes widened at seeing her change of clothes, but it seemed to please him. Though, one sight made him pause.

"Funny. I think I have seen that necklace once. But where have I seen it?"

She batted her lashes, hoping he would not see the unease of her stance.

"Darling, you've offered me so many jewels, of course you at least saw them once."

He raised an eyebrow at that, then shrugged.

"It must have been one of the many times I couldn't say no to you, darling. It is not to my taste."

And not to mine either. Yet, she could not tell him it was the gift of another man for her daughter, and she felt bound to wear it because of her. She doubted he would believe it and she certainly did not want to spoil the day for them when they were still on a bumpy road in their relationship.

Mrs. Meade was the first one to arrive, and when they greeted her, there was a coldness in her, in particular toward Rhett who she barely looked at. Scarlett felt guilty over it, knowing her part in that attitude, despite her dismissal of that rumor. Yet, how could she have known? Only to Todd and his accomplices, she had implied some mistreatment, hoping it would make them more lenient toward her, in a time when she thought they might attack her. To Mrs. Meade, nothing. She didn't know where she could have had that impression, though here again, she had been able to use it for that irritating affair of sleeping draughts.

It came to her once that maybe it had to do with her miscarriage years earlier, and that doctor Meade may have implied she had been pushed down the stairs, but she dismissed it. Great balls of fire, how could they think _he_ had been the one to push her?

He had always hurt her with his words, not with his physical strength.

To Scarlett, the old crow offered a pitying glance, with a warm shake of the hand. Confused, Rhett froze, before a nonchalant expression came to his face. Yet, now she could see it had troubled him, him who was so sure of their acceptance after everything he had done for Bonnie.

She saw him shove his fists in his pocket in frustration and felt for him. Without thinking, she put her hand softly on his wrist, before slipping under the fabric to join his hand. He jumped, surprised, before staring at her.

"My hand is cold," She said softly, a weak explanation to a gesture she had not thought of.

"Cold?" He raised an eyebrow at her, though his fist left the pocket, opened and held her fingers in a tight grip. "Why, yes, yes. It is."

It was a lie. But at least a lie that contented them both. At least him, she thought. She felt she was the kind of woman who, when she loved, wanted others to see it, to claim the man before all. Yet, she could see the use of maintaining the situation as it was, if only it would preserve him.

To the others, it might appear as a simple gesture of amiability to keep the appearance. But to her, it was a sign they were united against them all, even if they did not speak about it.

She felt strong with him by her side. They were united, it was them against the world, with their smiles and their charms as their weapons. Together, they could be unstoppable, and they were barely having a taste of it.

They welcomed most of their visitors together, and it was also together they put them at ease, both of them satisfyingly complementary in their roles, more harmonious than they had been since the beginning of their marriage, as they praised the furniture and presented the organization of the auction. Suspicious glances were thrown at them, but somehow, Scarlett thought they were able to find strength in each other to deal with it.

Yet, that did not mean she liked the charming way he talked to the other younger women, even if some of his gestures were correct like being very considerate to Maybelle Picard when that one apologized profusely for bringing her baby of a few months with her, the nurse being sick and could not intend him.

Well, if I had stopped to that, she thought, it would have been alright. But then there were little jokes, little allusions to literary she did not like one bit, knowing she couldn't join it.

She turned away from the scene, then froze.

Suellen was there, smug as a cat having eaten the mouse. Her greedy eyes were scrutinizing every furniture with envy, and Scarlett could see she was counting how much she could spend, and how it could spite her sister, from the mean little smile on her face.

"Suellen?" Scarlett asked, dumbfounded, then walked toward her younger sister. "What are you doing here?"

Why wasn't she back in Tara? Certainly, she hadn't just sent them something to call them to Atlanta, informing them of the sale of the house like that? She scowled. But Suellen didn't seem to care.

"Why, it seems I have a comfortable amount of money I can spend, and I told myself, why not see my dearest sister, who seemed in the need to get rid of some of her luxurious furniture? So tell me, _sister_ , you certainly don't think people believe you when you say it's for a good cause?"

"And I suppose you're here to be the better person," Scarlett retorted, more than a little piqued by it. "Which is quite surprising, for it would mean you are actually _good_ for something."

"Well, better than you, that's an easy thing to do. Better sister, better wife, better mother… My, it's not surprising your children are scared of you. Thank God Bonnie at least…"

She saw red.

"Get out," she hissed. "Get out, you spiteful, ungrateful wench. I am ashamed of you, just like Pa and Ma are too. Yes, shame on you, Suellen. I had almost felt guilty at thinking the worse of you, but you always proved me right by each turn. Tattletale, traitor, _murderess_ …"

In her fury, she did not realize the terrific expression she had in her face, making Suellen grow pale and shaking. Yet, she tried not to show it, wanting to make it seem like she had the upper hand.

"It doesn't matter. There's nothing of taste here. I should have known. You just have to see your engagement ring to see it!"

"Nothing of taste, maybe. But you seemed to like it very much, from the way you eyed it. So I wonder at _your_ taste."

Her sister huffed, then turned to leave.

Well, it did not matter. It was done, and she was gone, and the auction would continue just like it was supposed to be.

Yet, when she saw her back, she felt some regrets over these words. But it was too late. And she had other things to do. She tried to continue entertaining, but then her heart wasn't in it anymore. Meeting Rhett's concerned gaze, she nodded towards him in reassurance, but sat in a corner for a moment. She looked at her rings, and in particular at the engagement ring, the big emeralds and diamond glaring at her as she let it go from her finger and touched it, remembering the day Rhett had proposed. She had always known it was too big, indecent. And yet, completely distasteful? In the feelings she had during that fateful proposal, she could not stop herself from liking it nonetheless.

"My lady…"

She jumped, letting the ring fall from her hand in surprise. Todd. What was he doing here?

He knelt before her to take the ring and looked at it, before handing it to her. Taking it back, she suddenly realized how it looked like.

There were whispers, and eyes on them both, but that wasn't the worse.

Rhett was glaring at them.

"Get up. _Now_." She hissed.

Todd blinked.

"Oh. Well, yes. Yes."

He bowed one last time with an apologizing glance her way, but she dismissed him. In the end, she might never know what he was going to say. All she knew was that his presence alone had been a disturbance in her day, more than Suellen's intervention had been.

On the other way, Richard, who had just arrived, was looking at her with a new appreciation, as if something in his possession had gained even more value.

She huffed and as Hugh declared the auction open, she joined Rhett's side, hoping that little scene between her and Todd had not made him doubt her.

For shame, it would be one thing for him to get jealous of Richard, especially when it seemed he made a game out of it, and it would be only the snake biting his tail, but of Todd? That beat it all!

Yet he said nothing when she stood by his side, barely seeming to notice when she put a hand on the crook of his arm. They stared at the people taking their seats, and the first sales being held, half enthusiastically. Scarlett frowned.

"They're not bidding very much."

"I think, my dear, that some of them have a good taste," She scowled at that obvious barb. "but most of them came because they don't like us, and they wanted to buy something we might care about, just to spite us. Unfortunately, they see how it doesn't have any effect on us. And what a deception, despite a promising beginning with that little scene with your dear Todd…"

"He's not my dear Todd!" She protested. "He's neither mine nor dear!"

He grinned mischievously. "Well, the thing is, there's not another scandal to be seen."

He paused, then his eyes widened. "Another scandal… Yes…"

He turned towards her suddenly, putting his hands on her shoulders, his eyes hard and waiting on her.

"I have an idea," He said. "Give me your betrothal ring."

An idea, maybe. But she wasn't sure she was going to like it, from the expression on his face.

"Rhett…"

"Trust me."

At these words, she let her ring slip from her fingers and handed it to him. He released her and took it. He looked at the ring thoughtfully, then let out a sharp, short laugh as he threw and caught back the precious little object. She gasped, almost jumping to get it, her heart letting a painful pang.

"Rhett, you're certainly not going to…"

There was a glint of malice in his black orbs as he stared back at her.

"Not me, my dear. You."

He took her hand in his softly, his eyes expectant.

"It just makes me think of a memory of us, don't you remember? When you valiantly gave out your wedding ring for the Cause," He put the ring back in her hand, his eyes twinkling darkly. "Play along, Scarlett! Didn't you say your engagement was true?"

Their eyes met for a duel, his daring her to shoot first. She huffed and took the bait.

She froze before joining her manager, squaring her shoulders as she did so. She handed the betrothal ring to Hugh, her eyes blazing in a posture of high dignity as she explained it to him.

When she returned to Rhett's side, she was glaring. He chuckled, leaning in to whisper to her

"Make sure you look your most outraged, darling. It will make them pay even more."

Hugh cleared his throat, ill-at-ease.

"Here, as a surprise, another object. An engagement ring, possession of the lady of the house in sign of her engagement…"

There were whispers at the announcement. Then it began with an uproar.

There it was.

"One hundred and fifty dollars!"

"One hundred and sixty!"

"And eighty!"

"Two hundred!"

"Two hundred and fifty-six!"

"That's oddly specific," Rhett commented while she fumed. "Oh, don't pout, Scarlett. You still have your wedding ring."

"And now that makes me want to put it in the auction as well."

"You won't do that," He said quietly after some time.

"Don't tempt me." She snapped. "That's a very unfair trick you played, Rhett!"

"Five hundred and twenty!"

"Five hundred and twenty-five!"

"One thousand dollars."

She froze, her heart stopping for a time.

Richard. Of course. He had already bought her jewelry box. Now he wanted to buy the symbol of her union to Rhett.

At her side, Rhett was frowning.

"That's a little more than three times the price bought it."

She turned towards him, baffled, but he only offered her a smirk she immediately wanted to erase, to the point that she did not pay attention to the alertness in his eyes.

"What?"

"See, darling, when I bought it, I was very much ruffled by your reasons for marrying me, and I wanted to know if you would distinguish what is true to what is not. I had bought another that thought might suit you better, but then I wanted to give it only to you if you guessed it right. You wanted a ring with a big stone, you see…"

"So you mean to tell me you bought me a ring with a fake stone just to prove a point?"

"Scarlett…"

She jumped out of his reach, offended.

"No. Don't talk to me. I can't even look at you right now. I'm sure you have your own, dubious reasons, but I don't want to hear them. I have enough. Enough."

She settled on the couch and looked at the rest of the auction in silence. Without surprise, Richard bought the jewelry box, though she saw it hadn't been without some bids from members of the Old Guard or even India, who certainly did so to spite her and because of envy.

When it was over, Richard came swiftly to her and handed her the ring back discreetly, his eyes gleaming with malice.

"I return to you what has certainly been one precious gift," He bowed mockingly before her with a smirk. "And now the symbol of another bond… As is another at your neck," He added quietly, as if troubled.

She felt strangely touched by the gesture, despite knowing who the man was.

"I thank you, my lord. You are most thoughtful."

He took a step back as Rhett joined them and sat by her side.

"How… gentlemanly of you, Richard."

"I aim to please."

"That's obvious."

The smile was pleasant, the eyes blank, and yet, there was a possessiveness in the way he gripped her hand, so much that she feared there would be a bloody mark on her palm. Angrily, she stepped on his foot in warning, but he did not even seem to notice it.

When Richard left, he released her. She huffed and turned away. But then at that moment, she heard a baby's cry, and Maybelle holding it, visibly searching who she may ask to care it, her husband being nowhere in sight. Then, her eyes met Scarlett's, and there came a strange determination in her eyes as she walked in her direction.

Little did Scarlett know Maybelle had argued some times with her own mother about her subject, and, taken with the fancy of taking her under her wing, had thought it her duty to prove her wrong. Thus why now she had decided to do her next actions.

"Would you mind, Scarlett dear, to hold him a moment? I need to go…"

With the unease in her face, it was obvious what kind of need she was talking about.

Scarlett nodded absent-mindedly and took the baby in her arms, a strange emotion coming over her.

The last baby she had hold was Bonnie. Little, precious Bonnie. But even then, Rhett had always been the one who took her from her arms, and she had let him, thinking it wasn't so bad. But now she regretted it. If only she had known how little time she would have…

"Scarlett…" She heard the soft, pained whisper of her husband at her side.

She shook her head.

"No, Rhett… Don't say anything. Please."

She cooed a little at the baby, looking into its black eyes, and wondering how it would feel, if it was her and Rhett's child now in her arms. Oh, before she had not been able to appreciate it, unable even to see how lucky she was. But now…

Oh, a child with him. How wonderful it would be.

Would he be ready to risk his heart again? It already seemed difficult for him to risk his heart for her… and yet, she so wished…

Oh ridiculous, she thought. She had never wanted children. The only child she had wanted to bear the pregnancy with enthusiasm had been the one who did not survive.

How foolish of her to wish for a child at a time when nothing was sure.

And yet, maybe because of that, she wanted it even more.

Soon enough, Maybelle came back, and seemed satisfied with what she saw.

The rest of the afternoon passed swiftly, or maybe it seemed to pass swiftly because she was able to drink more than she had in the last months. She wanted to erase that pain, that doubt in her heart. But it seemed even the numbness of her body couldn't make it go away.

Once they were all gone, she looked at the half-emptied rooms and sighed. This had been done, at least.

The Mausoleum. The dollhouse, as he had called it. It was like a blank space she had to fill once again, to make it this time a home, and yet with the events of the day, she now didn't know if she truly wanted to.

Dinner was calm, but at least she was satisfied to see that even Billy had accepted to join them, though wary he still seemed to be. He gulped it down quickly, his alert eyes looking at the others warily, as if they might take it from him. But he seemed to soften when Ella laughed beside him, commenting on his ways. He even said a few words, encouraged by the easiness of her manners. Scarlett did not quite catch it, but it warmed her heart to see how gentle her children could be.

Then came the time for the story, and she let Ella and Wade recall the other events, weary of the day, of the emotions that had filled it. When they were finished, they raised expectant eyes on her and she nodded. They might have noticed her melancholy, for then they seemed calmer, and softer.

She shook her head. Great balls of fire, she thought. They were children! Certainly, they might had no idea of what was going on!

The idea was comforting, but it did not stay long in her mind. She sighed, her hands joined as if for a prayer. Her eyes met Rhett's, and she felt a hard grip on her heart, making her remember all the misunderstandings they had.

"Yes, Solene very much wanted Mary to have flaws, for it would have meant she was human like her, and it would have prevented her from feeling so ashamed by her own selfishness and fears."

"Oh, but she wasn't selfish!" Ella protested. "She cares for Mary! And she cares for Robert too!"

"She does. But caring for the people that are close to her can also be a little selfish."

"How so?" The girl asked, cocking her head in confusion.

"Sometimes, Ella," Rhett intervened, seeing her unease. "When you care too much about people, you think more of yourself than of their own wishes. You think of what you might feel in their place, forgetting they might feel it differently."

"And that can lead you to do things in their place, isn't it?" Wade asked.

"Very much so," Scarlett nodded. "But there was another thing. Mary had talked about her wish for a family, and her wish for love. And all these talks made her miss a certain pirate more than she should have. She knew the peacock had talked about love, and she herself had wanted to deny it. But now…"

"I knew it!" Ella cried. "She is really in love with him!"

Scarlett paused, hesitating, and feeling her husband tension without even looking at him.

"Yes, she was," She replied quietly. "And there, she saw it, and Mary noticed that, and tried to encourage her. Yet, Solene knew she had only half a heart to give, half that she had almost given to another before for the dream he seemed to offer her. And the pirate was gone now, and she wasn't sure if she would ever see him again."

"I'm sure he'll find her again," Wade said confidently. "Don't you think, Uncle Rhett?"

She barely raised her eyes on him, though she knew he had observed her all the way.

"I do believe so, Wade," He said softly.

She nodded, thinking about it, then continued. "Still, she didn't know it. Yet, with Mary's encouragement… They decided they might try to find him. And then at night came the peacock and he saw her trouble and became very insistent. Taking advantage of Mary's absence, for she had decided to search for wood, he said:

"'Here, Solene, let me tell you the story of the bitter couple, for I feel you will need it. There were once a man and a woman who had married each other. They loved each other very much, but terrible events had happened to them, and it led them to be wary of the world, but mostly of each other. Because of that, they had never told the other they loved them, persuaded as they were that it wasn't reciprocated."

"Then why had they married each other if it was so?" Wade asked, surprised.

Rhett seemed about to reply, but she was faster. "Because they hoped it would change. Yet they were not open enough to make it change. And the days passed, and many things happened. And as nothing changed, suspicions came, and they did not dare to talk about it."

"But certainly, if they loved each other, they should have trusted each other?" Ella blinked, confused.

She smiled sadly. "No, my sweet. One can love someone, but that doesn't mean they trust them. And for them, the more time passed, the more impossible it seemed to resolve it. And yet, they still loved and loved. But that love, instead of making them happy, made them bitter and wary."

"Yet, it's not an unsolvable story, my dear," Rhett said softly.

She raised her eyes on him, hope mixing with doubt in her mind.

"No, it is not, I suppose," She admitted finally. "But when the peacock told their story, it seemed so. Each of them thought 'At least, my heart is safe, because they don't know I care'. And yet… They were not safe. Solene protested and, alerted by her cries, Mary came at her side. Yet it did not appease her, and somehow, she felt as if her heart was about to explode in her chest. Something… had been lit in her, and she didn't know what. Surprised by that new feeling, and the realization that indeed she loved Robert, she took the emerald from her bag and threw it on the floor…"

"Oh, but she will disappear if she does so!" Ella reacted, upset.

Scarlett shook her head. "No, my sweet, she will not. But instead, a deep smoke enveloped her and she ran and ran, until she felt nothing but her aching feet."

"But she will return, won't she?" Ella relented.

"She will," Her mother replied. "But she needs time…"

"But… She let Mary!" Wade protested, taken aback. "How could she have done it?"

"She was afraid," Another voice answer timidly, and they all froze, surprised. "It was all too much and…"

Billy raised his head, suddenly realizing they were watching him, then he left his place and ran out of the room, his eyes shining like those of a hunted animal. Without thinking, Ella called after him and followed him. Besides Wade, Caroline was shaking.

This brought Scarlett out of her melancholy, and she thought it was her alone that had brought all this mess and felt ashamed by it.

"Wade," She said with a weak voice. "It's time to go to bed. I fear it had been too much… Tomorrow… Yes, tomorrow it'll be happier. I promise."

He nodded towards her and led Caroline to the nursery.

"Scarlett…"

She stiffened, then shook her head. "I need something to eat. And…" She looked at Rhett and shrugged wearily "whatever. I need some time…"

That being said, she left the room and took refuge in her chambers for a time. The tears came to her as she looked at herself in the mirror. She let the tears flowed until her eyes could not give them others. Yet, these were not sad tears. These were angry, frustrated tears, and once it was done, she felt filled with an energy that pushed her out of her room, wanting to face someone on that battlefield they had created.

She took the way back to the study and paused as she saw he was still there, waiting, his eyes alert on her as if she were a cat he wanted to tame.

"Oh," She said. "You're still here."

"Where else could I be?" He took her in and blinked, as if unsure how to begin. "I think you're a bit tipsy, my dear. And maybe a little depressed."

"Go to hell, Rhett," She mumbled as she took a glass from the water jug on the table and drank from it.

"Are you angry?"

" _Am I_?" She looked at him strangely, wondering if he might have gone mad. Or simply stupid. Trying to gather her wits, she put down her glass and stared at him coldly. "Do you expect me to be _happy_?"

His smile stretched, but his eyes were wary.

"Oh, darling, surely, you're not offended about…"

Now, that was too much.

"Of course I am offended! I am humiliated! It's just another one of your jokes or little revenge that are funny only to you, and then I'm sure even to you it has a bitter taste! … like when you advised me to call the store 'Caveat Emporium'! There was… There was… oh, all the people looking at me with pity!"

"Scarlett…" He called, trying to reach out to her.

"No, don't you dare to touch me!" She snapped. "Don't you dare say my name and make it seem like it was nothing at all! Give me one reason I should forgive you!"

"Because the wedding ring is the real deal," He said softly, and in his eyes she saw the apology he could not utter and it made her falter when she wanted to scream. "It's the one thing we share with the same high and true value that has for only difference the size of the finger."

"Oh."

She paused, not knowing what to do with that information that had somehow hit hard on her anger, so much that she felt it slipping away. Her eyes lowered to the deep red carpet on the floor, so thick it felt like her feet were slowly sinking into it. She joined her hands, trying to keep them from fidgeting.

"Would you show me one day what was the ring you really wanted to give me for our engagement?"

"I will, Scarlett. I will. One day," He faced her, his hands touching hers lightly, and as she shook her head, trying not to cry, he let go and took shelter on the chair, a dark expression on his face.

She looked at him, feeling completely tired and wanting nothing more than to take refuge in the security of his arms without worrying about what he may think or what she had to do to reassure him. How could she do that when she herself needed it? She thought, distraught.

"You've hurt me, you know," She said, hesitating.

"I know." And she could see now he felt miserable.

She took a step forward, paused behind him, before letting herself fall on her knees with a sigh and the soft shivers of fabrics. Tentatively, she put her arms around him, the palms joined on his chest, and rested her chin on his shoulder. He jumped a little at her gesture, then relaxed.

"And yet…" She said. "Why do I feel like I've already forgiven you?"

She felt he was trying to see her expression but did not dare to actually turn his face.

"I don't know, Scarlett."

"I know," She said bitterly. "I think it's been obvious that when I love, I'm blind to anything. It's just that sometimes… It takes more time."

"And usually a little shouting."

"And usually a little shouting," She could not help but smile. "I am my father's daughter, after all. Gerald O'Hara was known for his fits of temper."

He nodded with what looked like a hopeful smile, looking at her longingly as his hand reached her cheek, lightly, as if not to frighten her. Or maybe because he could not believe she was with him, by his side.

"I have to correct you, my dear. You're not blind. You just have this incredible capacity of forgiving those who have been wrong by you…" There was wonder in these eyes – at least she wanted to believe there was – and she relished in it. She leaned on his caress, closing her eyes in content, so she did not see it turning into a mocking flame. ".. but not those who have been petty to you."

She chuckled. "And here I thought you were going to tell me a compliment. And in which category do you think you are, husband?"

"I think I have an idea, but I need a little confirmation," He observed her quietly. "Have you truly forgiven me?"

"What do you think?"

She smiled softly, trying to convey all her love to that man who still very much doubted it.

He looked at her in what looked like wonder, and she relished in the thought of it. Just for it, it lessened the pain of knowing he would throw out even the symbol of their bond.

Well, not the wedding ring, at least. That he had said it.

He looked away thoughtfully and she sighed.

"Rhett… What would _you_ be ready to forgive?" She said. "To the woman you love, I mean?"

He tensed under her.

"What would there be to forgive?"

She froze, then sighed, sobered. She couldn't tell him. Not when she knew how it always ended between them, whether there was truth or not. Loving her had never prevented him from leaving when something displeased him. She still remembered the time when he took Wade to New-Orleans… Or when he took Bonnie…

And yet, he was still here…

… And he was not.

Oh, Rhett, she wanted to cry. Won't you ever trust me? Isn't it enough that I love you and you love me?

Yet, even with that thought, she knew that her actions weren't ones to make him trust her, just like his didn't make her feel at ease with that idea. She could tell herself it was to protect him, and surprise him, for then he would see she was his equal. It seemed they had reached an understanding, but it wasn't one they could talk about. Yet would it be enough?

She was withdrawing her arms from him when he took her wrist, forcing her to stay. He turned his head, looking at her in the eyes.

"The only thing that is truly unforgivable, my dear, is the one that can't be changed nor negotiated, for it is the most definite of the definite."

She cocked her head on one side, confused.

"Which is?"

He smirked.

"I'll leave you with that riddle, my pet."

She scowled.

"I'm not your pet!"

"No," He looked at her a long time before nodding. "No, indeed, you're not. You're…"

There it was. He was going to say it. She leaned it, not aware of that triumphant smile that was about to stretch on her lips.

"The most conceited woman I've ever known."

"Oh, you rascal!"

Yet, there was another smile on her face, and one on his, with a mocking flame that said it all.

Here again, she couldn't help it. She forgave him, like she always did, for imagined and real wrongs, because he was charming, he knew how to take her and make her feel safe, and she loved him. Oh, how she loved him!

What an infuriating man. What a lovable man. _Her_ man.

She hummed, while he began to caress the inside of her wrist, his fingers following the trail of the lines.

"We'll need to find a house," He said. "We can't house the orphans all in there, that wouldn't be appropriate, don't you think?"

"A house? Oh, the lovely idea!" She exclaimed. "The orphanage is in such a sorry state!"

"My point totally. And housing the children elsewhere will make it easier for us to control who would work in there…"

"And what happens in there. Oh, Rhett, you're so clever! Yet…"

She faltered.

"What, my dear?" He looked up at her questioningly.

"There would be a need for a garden! And a big one."

He cocked an eyebrow up.

"A garden?"

"How else to keep them occupied and for them not to go hungry if the time comes when there's no food to have and none of us is there? And then, imagine if there's a problem in winter and we can't help them?"

"Of course, I should have known you'd think about it. How about a part for a school?"

"Oh, yes," She nodded. "Did you know, no one of them went to school? They had some of the nuns teaching, yet…"

"It's not enough. Very right, my dear. We'll see what Santa can do."

Finally, the anxious expression dropped entirely from her face and she snorted, refraining from the laugh that still threatened to come.

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett! Santa, really? Should I order you a new green gown bordered with white fur?"

He smirked.

"Only if you make a costume accordingly for you too. Green had always been your color."

"We'd look funny."

"Rhett and Scarlett Butler, tenants of an orphanage and still rich as Cresus. With these clothes on, they'd think us conceited enough to think ourselves Father and Mother Christmas."

"Well, at least we'd have done something!" Her heart thumped a little at their names joined with his voice, but she put a cheeky smile on her face, shrugging as if it was an answer she had expected. "And we'd look good doing it."

"That we would, my darling," He chuckled, kissing their intertwined fingers, before pausing. "At least…"

"At least?"

"If I ever decide to cross Atlanta from time to time to visit the orphanage."

She froze, then nodded.

"… Yes. If you ever decide."

She felt a pang of pain in her heart at this allusion but did not dare to confront him about it. It was playing with her fears, when she had already faced some of them and was tired to do so. It was like these talks about travels and the marvels of the world, and how _he_ wanted to see it again. She could feel he wanted to leave, and she couldn't bear the thought. Couldn't bear the thought of waiting for him in that house, wondering if he might ever come back, terribly so it did not cross her mind that maybe he had other intentions in saying the things that he did.

She'd rather do it at Tara, but she still wasn't sure if he would join her in there.

She had to change subjects, or else she knew she would falter.

But what? Leaning in, she felt the sting of the necklace on her skin and it made her grimace in slight pain. She put a hand on it, wanting to take it off, but stopped. He caught her gesture and gave her a questioning glance. Looking into his eyes, very much aware of the restrained energy that his whole body exhaled, she took time to wonder once again who her husband was, and what it may lead her to in the end.

 _You, mister, are your worst enemy_ , She remembered the words. _There are shadows in your past and your heart, and a cold grip that prevents you from living as freely as you would wish. You wear a mask so often you don't even know when it's on. You think secrecy is the best way to play, but it's a wild card, the one you want. I see many who'd like to catch her. Some for charms, some for harm. Some for spite. Some for comfort. She might easily be caught in a bigger wind than expected if you don't pay attention. Keep her close, be true to her and she'll be true to you. But if you don't, if you play with her blindly, you might lose it all. Life is no gamble, sir._

She let her hand fall at her side and shivered. Some parts were strangely close to their situation, and he himself at the time had admitted it. These shadows in his past and his, she was barely beginning to see them, if indeed it meant what she believed it did. There were his young years with that terrific father of his, and the cruel treatment that slave had suffered in front of his eyes. There were the days in the war, that she at the time, had been tempted to dismiss, too caught up with her own feelings. And there were all the years of his marriage to her, and little Bonnie…

No matter why he did not trust me, she thought, distraught. I wouldn't even trust myself!

She felt his hand reaching hers, startling her, before relaxing.

And then, about these men who'd like to catch her…

Some for charms? Difficult to answer that question, for Scarlett was very sure of her own charms on other men than Rhett, who took pleasure in telling her she was still thinking herself the Belle of five Counties. But if she had to guess right now, she would bet money on Todd Smith. My, that man wasn't even discreet in his admiration, and it made her want to shout when she saw that, for she knew it wasn't truly her that he admired. He did not know her.

Some for harm? For spite? That, she was determined to think it was that damned Fenton, who always talked to her of revenge at the same level as the alleged feelings he said he had. And what happened with Ella… Oh, no, she could not let him go near her ever again. Nor Wade.

Comfort… She paused and bit her lips, the memory of yesterday coming back to her. Ashley. Ashley was the one who wanted her for comfort. He was like a leech, trying to suck the life out of her, and even if she wanted to get rid of it, she knew she couldn't, with what she had promised Melly.

"You seem far away," Rhett said, and his tone was almost accusing.

She snapped back to reality, back into his eyes. Of course, he was suspicious. He had always seemed to know what she was thinking, and her thinking of Ashley in particular.

Though even when she was not thinking of him, he tended to bring him up.

"Rhett… Do you believe in prophecies?" She blurted.

He cocked an eyebrow up, mildly surprised at her question.

"Acts being settled in stone before they even had been done? No, Scarlett. I believe that people make their own bed and say it was fate when it does not go the way they want it to go," His eyes softened. "And I believe also sometimes they are so afraid of something happening that they make it so without even being aware of it."

"That doesn't make any sense."

He let out an amused smile.

"Of course, to you, my practical little wife, this doesn't make a sense. You've never been afraid of anything."

"That's not true. You just like to think so," She scoffed. "If I wasn't afraid, I wouldn't have nightmares."

"Oh, so you're afraid of fire? Well, that's a common enough fear, I guess. But I very doubt you'll find yourself trapped in the house when it's on fire. And what about the mist, my dear? Did it really happen?"

"There was a mist the day Melanie died, and you left," She said softly.

His caress on his wrist stopped.

"Oh. But that might be a coincidence, my dear."

"That might be," She shrugged. "But I think it might apply as well to you, then."

"How so?"

"I think you were so afraid of me hurting you, that you ended up hurting _me_ instead, making me _want_ to hurt you. That since the beginning."

There was a white, uneasy silence between them, barely broken by the cracks of the fire licking off the wood in the study.

"I guess we weren't good to each other back then, were we?"

"I guess we weren't. But enough talk of the past!" She complained loudly, and maybe a bit more dramatically than she could have. "It's dreary and it won't get us anywhere!"

"I disagree with you, for it is with the past that one can learn its lesson. Didn't you tell me yesterday that thanks to our marriage, you now knew what you wanted in a man? It's what makes us grow… But I understand your point that dwelling too much on it can make one unable to move on on their life. It is all in the balance, you see. Not too much, and not too little."

"Like a cooking recipe."

It drew a smile on his lips. "Just so. You know, I think you understand more than you let on. So why hide it?"

"Who says I'm hiding it? I'm just not thinking about it, that's it. Mostly."

He chuckled. "Oh, but then it doesn't disappear, does it? It becomes an invisible presence, nagging you and in the end, you don't know why, or what it is, and you might not even act on it before you're lost in it. That's a thing I've understood, living with you. Invisible things, those that are abstract and you can't completely grasp at the time, things that are just talks, looks, thoughts and feelings, not direct confrontation scare you, and you can only deal with it once it becomes entirely palpable to you, an immediate threat to your well-being and peace of mind."

"I'm sure I don't see what you mean," She batted her lashes, not liking this turn of conversation, but finding it better than to face his own suspicion that she barely managed to shrug off. "Or else it would mean I am afraid of what you're saying to me now."

"I'm sure you don't want to see. And I think you are. Afraid, that is. But that's alright, Scarlett. One day, you'll be able to face it, and I'm sure I'll take great pleasure in seeing you succeed and making the right choice."

"You think I could?"

"I think you will. No, that's not true. I'm sure you will," He squeezed her hand lightly, and she felt warm at the sight of the faith he seemed to have in her in that aspect. "You've grown up, Scarlett. I'm sure in time you'll be able to see things truly as they are and know how to use them or reply accordingly when it happens."

"Like you do?" She quipped. "Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett, everyone has their own opinions about things, I'm not sure anymore if there is only one way to consider them that would be entirely even close to the truth of it."

"Then you'll have to trust yourself, and those you care most about."

"And search for the information elsewhere, I suppose."

"To be sure, yes. It's always better to keep an open mind. It allows one to make more than one plan of action at the time."

She rolled her eyes.

"A thing I'm sure you became a master at. You always have a few cards on your sleeves."

He eyed her with amusement.

"Are you calling me a cheat, darling?"

"Well, I'm sure you'd do anything if only it would lead to the thing you want," She retorted sternly. "And you're not offended, so I guess it's the truth."

His grin widened.

"See. You've just proved I'm right."

"How so?"

"We've talked long and hard about things you can't grasp entirely. And you managed it pretty well."

"Oh, really?" She raised bright eyes at him, before recoiling with an offended expression on her face. "Oh, you are certainly very condescending about it."

He laughed. "You pout when no one compliments you, and you complain when one does it. _Constancy, thy name is woman._ "

She huffed.

"When you'll use your own words, I'll listen to you."

"Oh, Scarlett, I didn't mean to ruffle your feathers, though I'm sure by now you know I always like to see your temper rise, and I know the surest way to assure it is often to use authors' words."

"It always seems like you're mocking my ignorance."

"My darling, ignorance is better than utter stupidity. One can be remedied, the other cannot. If it bothers you so much, why don't you do anything about it?"

"Is it a dare?" Her eyes shone with challenge and teasing. "I thought you didn't really care of a woman reading books?"

"If you want to think it as such," He shrugged, though the corner of his mouth lifted a little. "My dear, it's not about getting lost in them or rambling nonsense on them for the sake of a good word, but without having a true understanding of it. It's about getting information. And once you have the information, you can do whatever you want with it. If you don't, you allow people that have it, or some of it to feel superior, even if they don't have your wits."

"Then what do I win?"

He roared in laughter. "Of course, you would think of what you would get from it! How about the knowledge it procures and the feeling of knowing more than others?"

"Not enough, though I'm sure I'd very much love, like you, to tease the others and act superior about it," She said, her eyes dancing. "But then I'm sure that necklace I saw this morning in Godey's magazine would be a fine prize."

"I'm sure you would. Consider the deal done, then."

"And if I lose?"

"I'm sure we'll find out what you can give me. In time," He looked at her over, before saying. "By the way, my dear, have you finished that tome of the Arabian Nights?"

She blinked idly, remembering the night when in anger she had disregarded it, forgetting it until then. Where could it be? She wondered. She supposed one of the servants must have taken it and put it back in the library. Or maybe he had done this in one of his nightly visits, and he wanted to see if she would tell the truth.

"Oh. I've thrown it. I don't know where it's gone."

"I should have known. Well, then, I'll have to think of a prize when I win, then."

Chuckling, he raised from his seat and reached out to her with a grin.

"Come, Scarlett. Let's see how many books you can lift before I have to carry you."

Without hesitating, she took it and followed him, as he led her out of the room.

In the heat of the moment, they snickered like children as they went to the library, each of them trying to hush the other while barely concealing their own mirth.

He climbed the scale and handed her books, and she took them with an intoxicating giggle as he presented them with bravado and theatrical gestures.

"Moby Dick, Herman Melville!"

"I got it!"

"Les Misérables, Victor Hugo."

"I got it!"

"No, that's 'je l'ai', my darling!" He corrected with an amused smile, before handing her another. "La Morte d'Arthur, Sir Thomas Mallory !"

"I got it, sir Snob!"

He chuckled. "Uncle Tom's Cabin, Harriett Beecher Stowe! That's for your little thinking on slavery."

"The book that started the war? Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett, how scandalous of you! For sure the Old Guard would never forgive you if they knew!"

"For sure, they won't, though they might not agree with your rewriting of history," He replied. "Macbeth, Shakespeare!"

She stumbled under the weight.

"Rhett…"

"Anthony and Cleopatra, another Shakespeare!"

"Rhett!"

"Wuthering Heights, for I'm sure you'd like to read the rest."

"Rhett!" She cried, giggling. "That's too much, I… huff!"

She fell on her backside.

He jumped from the scale, making another book fall with him, and helped her raise.

"Are you alright, my dear?"

Her hands in his, she stared at him as he examined her closely, flushed and sobered under his scrutiny and the hint of a smile under his neatly clipped mustache. Her backside hurt a little, but it was more her pride that was wounded. She looked elsewhere, at all the fallen books around them and began to pick them up, handing them silently to him until he gathered them in a neat pile, a spark of amusement at seeing her so demure. She looked around, feeling like a little girl that had done wrong, before her eyes caught something.

"Oh. There's another one that fell."

She crouched to take it but froze when she saw where it was opened. And the image it showed.

In front of her, there was the image of a woman, naked, sitting on…

Oh, dear God! She thought, her cheeks blushing as she saw the man under her, his hands on her chest, teasing…

She knew she should look away. No lady could bear it, she thought. It was vulgar. It was crude, it was base, it was…

Yet, she couldn't. Why she couldn't, she didn't know. All she knew was that she felt hot and cold, and antsy, was suddenly very much aware of her surroundings and that she wondered…

No, she didn't wonder at all. Not at all. Not one bit.

She could feel Rhett's presence behind her, before even his body collided with her as he crouched behind her, settling her between his thighs. It was hot and hard, like a rock on a hot summer day, and as his scent enveloped her like a tight blanket, she felt accurately the turmoil it brought to her slender body. Her nostril flared on a sharp breath. Gone was the scent of old books and ink. Now was his, masculine and overwhelming, so exciting and true. It was a scent of action, of adventure and for a time she thrived on it alone, her lids dropping as she held on a breath.

"It's… disgusting."

"Yet, you're still looking," He leaned in and she bit her lip, her chest rising and falling with the same rhythm of her heart.

"Look at the woman, Scarlett," He said, and his voice was hoarse, yet barely higher than a whisper. "Does she look like she is disgusted?"

"No, she looks…"

 _Proud_. She touched the page softly.

He hummed, his nose grazing the back of her neck.

"See, Scarlett, what always saddened me was that how our women are kept sheltered like a flower, learning to think that making love is a duty, and desire men's business, and something to fear. I think that we, the men, raise you on a pedestal that makes you an ethereal being, pure and untainted in our mind, and most of you conform to that idea, because it became a norm, something to do if you want to be accepted."

One corner of her lips lifted.

"Like waiting for years before coming out when your spouse dies?"

"Oh, so you wouldn't wait if I died?"

"I won't ever marry again," She retorted firmly, turning her head to look at him in the eyes. "Seriously, Rhett, you ruined me for the other men, and I think you are very much aware of it, you rascal," She tried to soften it with a teasing smile, but then the idea of death and Rhett was too much for her to bear. "Please don't talk of death. I don't want to think about it."

How could she think of remarrying when she loved him? And when she knew he loved her?

His eyes glinted.

"Yes, it was just so," He said. "And just like it, I'm sure your mother told you it was your burden to bear your husband's bestiality, but the product of that coupling, a child, made it bearable. But certainly knowing you as I do, you did not think so when it came to you."

"No. I _did_ not."

She felt him smile against her.

"See, that's one of the things that separate you from other women born in your condition. You're aware of it. You have an inherent understanding that you can be so much more, that you don't have to abide by rules that might imprison you. Yet, you're still very much in that cage, my darling, and I'm sure you're not even aware that you can bring pleasure to yourself."

"To myself?" Her eyes widened. "Now, you're being obscure."

He sighed, the sound thick with a deep frustration that, although it seemed painful, did not seem entirely unpleasant. He leaned on her shoulder, his embrace lightly tightening.

"No, I'm not. You're just proving my point once again."

He took her hand in his and kissed the knuckles. Her eyes followed his movement as he led it first to her lips, grazing the bottom, then down on her chest. She shivered from it, shivered from the feeling of his nose buried on the junction between her neck and her shoulders, and the heat from his body that came to her in waves. Slowly, he made her continue that way, until they reached the end of her corset.

She gasped. He intertwined her fingers with his and held it there. A desire came to her, forbidden, that he went lower then. That he touched her there and erase that tension that was building under their palms.

"Can you feel it?" He whispered in her ear, his drawling voice husky with an intensity that made her shiver, though she had to refrain from a joyful giggle from the tickling of his mustache on her skin. "Desire, my dear, is like a foreign language. Sometimes you know instantly the meaning of it, and you reply in your own way. Sometimes, you don't know what it means, and you try to find what it could be. It takes practice before reaching it completely and mastering it. Unmastered, and it can lead you to get lost in perilous situations and even more imprisoned. But when it is… When you finally let it talk to you… it's freeing."

She leaned back on his embrace, melting into his body, her mouth agape as if she was trying to maintain in her some of his powerful aura that was surrounding her now. He gasped.

"God, Scarlett, are you even aware of what your body is saying? What there is in the sway of your hips and the curve of your lips? And these eyes…"

"Saying?" She blinked leisurely at him. "I don't know, Rhett. Maybe I need someone that could help me translate it."

He smiled then, and she looked at his white teeth that were shining right above her, frustratingly at a distance she could only reach if she made an effort for it.

She looked at him, intoxicated, his black eyes all she could see, the charcoal burning lightly with promise.

"Oh, I could teach you… If I'm inclined to."

"Oh, but then maybe we could begin now," She talked without thinking. "After all, I do have a kiss to take."

Then she froze, blushing as the words came finally to her mind, and he chuckled.

"Then do so."

She pushed on her feet to reach his lips. His other hand, that caressed her arm slowly reached her neck to maintain her here, leaving on its path a tingling sensation like the poking of a fire. The other tightened around her, and she moaned as it was pressed so on that intimate place. He kissed her slowly, intently taking his time as if he wanted to carve each corner into memory. There was a fervor in that kiss, like a promise for more, and she replied in kind, following his gestures. A promise that it would not just be the game of one short-timed moment of passion, but more of a deep, constant love, with many, many of these moments. It was tender, yet filled with a progressing heat that shook her to the core, and she felt she might soon explode with such feelings in her.

This was a kiss of a man who intended to stay with her, she concluded. No matter what his talks said. A kiss that was one of the most delicate ones she ever had, and that for once seemed to demand permission, for her to take the lead if she wanted to. It was one of two adults, growing to respect each other, love each other, and yet it had a teasing edge, like a dare, no, a promise, for more. It was the promise that even if everything was not alright between them, he would do anything to make it change. And that was better than all the words he could have said.

She could see he was containing himself greatly, for the desire was in his eyes, overwhelming, and she appreciated that he did, for even if she delighted in being in his power, this showed her he was willing to treat her as an equal. They stopped a little, looking in each other's eyes, like a silent oath, then kissed again.

But then, after a long time, it became obvious that this new kiss had another meaning that had more to do with teasing, because when she tried to intensify it, he would continue his own little exploration without a care in the world she was hanging by his every touch.

She turned fully to him when the heat was too much to bear and put her arms around his neck. She kissed his forehead, his chin, then both of his cheeks with a teasing smile. She paused, hesitant, her lids dropping one time to his lips, then kissed his nose. He chuckled.

"There's religion in your kisses, my dear."

She grinned deviously.

"Well, my conscience made me ashamed of that much paganly, husband. If I continue, I will have a lot to confess when Mass comes."

"Oh, I'll give you something to confess…"

 _Finally_! Her heart chanted as he pressed her against his body, his lips joining hers in a frenzy that blew her mind away, like a storm she could not escape. She tightened her embrace on him, feeling she wasn't close enough, and yet failing at satisfying that need completely. His hands reached her bottom roughly and she let out a little cry, feeling his own desire against hers. Unconsciously, she arched against him, making him grunt possessively as he tried to lift her skirt.

Intoxicated, she chuckled with glee and slipped from his embrace swiftly, feeling the burn of his eyes on her as she raised, and the frustration that laid in there. She giggled once more, and as he was about to catch her and stand, she took him by the collar and stole another kiss, before resting her forehead on his.

"Another time, my love," She husked. "Another lesson. Goodnight…"

He looked at her closely, before sighing with an amused smile, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides.

"Sweet dreams, my love."

And it sounded more like _Dream of me_.

She smiled. "I will."

He let her go and she stumbled a little, as if unused to stand on her own. She did not know how she reached her chambers, her mind hazy, almost feverish, nor how she found the strength to take off the dress without sighing, yet soon she found herself under her blanket, alone, yet very much hopeful the other side of the bed would soon be filled with that swarthy pirate king she had chosen for husband.

She touched her lips lightly, before letting her hand fall from bosom to belly. Then lower. She blushed with a shiver at her own action, then swiftly lit off the candle. Yet, the hand stayed there, and the words and feelings that had provoked it too.


	23. Chapter 23

It was after a first encounter with Richard, taking her by surprise when she was on her way to the orphanage, that Scarlett realized maybe it was not so good anymore to wander all alone in the streets. She fumed over herself for not asking Patrick, but then the Scottish giant had seemed so engrossed in helping Ella disentangling a ball of yarn that she had not dared to disturb such an endearing picture. Pork had been sent on an errand, and at that time, she felt safe enough despite Rhett's absence. He had left a note though this time, telling them he'd be available the whole afternoon, and knowing him, she knew he must have prepared something.

Thus, she had wandered with a dreamy smile on her face and had not seen the wolf until he wiggled his tail before her, a proud expression on his face.

He asked for some of her time, an eager and mean light in his eyes, and then proceeded to show her written testimonies against Rhett, and she had been flabbergasted by his own confidence and foolishness, almost forgetting the role she played with him. But she remembered soon enough. She flirted and flattered…

… And the names on the documents stayed on her mind, as if she had carved them on stone.

He attracted her on an abandoned alley, and she put her hand on her reticule, holding tight on the paper-knife she had hidden.

He stole a kiss, and she tried to look through the pockets of his jacket, but there was no sign of the paper-knife he had shown her earlier. She wanted to shout, outraged and disgusted. Yet, she smiled sweetly when he stopped, visibly smug. He must have thought that I had held onto him through the whims of passions, she thought. That damn peacock.

Then he went his way. And she went hers.

The orphanage was still in a disastrous shape, and she hesitated at first on giving the money from the auction, wondering if it would be used in a good way.

Yet, when she saw some of the nuns taking care of the children, she doubted. They were not all so terrible. Some seemed to really care. Even the Mother Superior, who looked down on her, but was quickly called away to calm one of the children that had climbed on a wardrobe and did not know how to go down.

These were things she had not seen the first times, when too engrossed with the hunger in their eyes, she had been more focused on going away. Or when, with Wade, she wanted to be the one saving the day. She looked at the scene closely, then decided to help. And this time, when the child was finally down, the Mother Superior's eyes grew softer.

They were people who tried to survive, but who were taking a wrong way to do so. And she knew that all too clear.

Thus why the idea of creating another orphanage was even more important.

She silently gave the money to the veiled woman, and she felt a newfound respect growing between them. At least a hint of it.

Rhett had told her the world was not truly black and white. Evil and good. Only people trying to live with the means they had been given. Failing. Succeeding. Building themselves from that. Some were weak and stayed weak. Some grew to become strong. Some were strong and became weak. And now she believed it too.

She went to the store and supervised Hugh, Charlie and Ryan's works for a moment, before going to her office. Her gaze stopped at the abandoned chest, and she counted the money she had put in there.

How silly of her to have thought of it! Why, Rhett was still here, and he would stay. She would have no use for that. Not to mention it was quite a big sum of money!

After a moment of indecision, she decided to take it home.

But as she was on the corner of the street, looking for her buggy on that surprisingly busy day, she ran into someone and let it fall.

She managed to retrieve her balance quickly, and excused herself mechanically, but her cheeks burned from the embarrassment.

Her eyes focused first on the basket that the person was holding, containing a pretty bottle of Champagne with a blue seal. She tried to remember where she could have seen the coat of arms that adorned it, for it seemed very familiar. Yet, she was disturbed on her musing by a rough, uncultured voice that filled her with instant anger.

"You're blocking the way."

The sight of Belle Watling biting her lip, looking down on her was too much for her to bear that she could not help but attack. Scarlett huffed and squared her shoulders, ready for battle.

"I've seen you don't contend yourself with entertaining wandering husbands and scoundrels, these days."

The woman dared to smirk.

"You've angered the wron' persons, Ma'm. You only get what you deserve."

"Persons that seem to have a dubious interest in children, from what I've understood."

A sharp light of guilt came to the Madam's eyes, but it soon disappeared, replaced with bitterness and wrath.

"You know nothing. Just like you dunno your own husband... You now, Rhett is a man that loves pleasure and diversity. You'll not be able to keep him long. He'll come wandering again. Just like another you like very much does."

A moment of doubt came to Scarlett, for this statement was close to her own worries. Yet, she remembered the events of yesterday. She remembered his love, his tenderness, despite his secrecy, and the sparks between them, and it gave her strength and faith.

She was so focused on Rhett, that she did not even hear the last part. And even if she had, she would not have really thought much of it at the time. A slow malicious smile came to her face. She held her head high and answered accordingly.

"It seemed it hasn't worked for you. I'll be able to keep up, thanks for your concerns. Whatever I lack, I'm sure he will be able to teach me."

She felt satisfied seeing that woman's face falling, and the skin turning white then red. It was petty, maybe (at least, she knew Melly would have softly reprimanded her, as much as she'd be flustered by the bold insinuations that made her blush herself by thinking of it), but it felt right, and she had to refrain the smile from coming to her face.

Belle Watling huffed, then willfully pushed her out of her way. There, the scorn appeared on Scarlett's face.

No, she would never be like such a woman, she thought. Never. She may have made mistakes, killed and degraded herself in her ignorance and fears, but now she was on the mend, making her own way. Never again would she allow such things to happen again. She had learned the lesson.

Yet, in her own reflection, she could not help but remember the regret that seemed to be in the Madam's eyes when she talked of the children.

She shook her head. It was useless to think of such things. Rhett was waiting.

She took up her fallen chest and went home. She put it in the study, then joined happily her husband, her children, and their little guests for the meal, letting their chatter amuse her and fill her with tenderness. She followed them to the porch, where tea and coffee had been brought up. And other beverages, she noticed, as Rhett opened a bottle of whiskey and suggested brandy to her. Sitting next to him, she watched the children playing, Wade having taken his velocipede to ride it a little, making taunting circles around Ella who had brought up her dolls to play, Caroline by her side silently taking those she handed her.

Rhett softly encouraged Billy to join, but he turned away, blushing, and asked to go to his chambers.

Seeing the scene, Scarlett remembered the puppy that Wade had had, a gift from her that she had sent during the honeymoon. Yet, the dog had not survived the trip to Marietta, sadly. At that time, she had not paid attention to it, focused on other things. But now, she remembered how it would jump on him eagerly when Wade used such a thing.

Had he cried when it died? She did not remember.

"I think I've found a house," She heard Rhett say. "For that little orphanage of yours."

"Oh?" She blinked. "Of ours, you mean. I seem to remember you very much agreed on this scheme."

His eyes glinted pleasantly.

"How would you want it to be called?" He asked, a little smile on his lips. "The Scarlett O'Hara Orphanage, as a proof of your tenacious will and conceit?"

"I'd sooner call it the Rhett Butler, that'd be more fitting," She teased, before pondering on it. "My first thought had been on naming her after Bonnie…"

He squeezed her hand in comfort. "You want to call it in her memory?"

"No. I thought about it. But I don't think it would be quite right," She sighed. "Bonnie was a happy child, though she had lived in an unhappy time. She had us, and we loved her, though our manners to show it were different. And she knew it. I know she knew it. These children… they have lost their parents. They need a benefactor. And when I think of who would be a better fit…"

The answer was obvious, and she felt strength saying it.

"… Melanie Wilkes. Yes, that's how it should be. I know she would have wanted to do so. And this is certainly the least I can do to honor her memory. Well… I and you, for I know how much you respected her."

He looked at her closely, and seeing that she was being honest, he nodded with approval.

"And she was an orphan as well," He added softly.

Her slanted eyes widened.

"Oh, I had forgotten!"

"It's easy to forget what was rarely brought up in times of wars and losses."

She shook her head, almost angry with herself.

"But I married her brother!"

"For all the care you had for him and your young age, I don't think you wanted to know him very much, so why do you care? No, Scarlett. No need to pull your hair for such things, when all of them are dead now. Better focus on the living. The children that are going to be housed."

She took his hand in both hers, and squeezed it.

"And that will live under the shadow of Melanie."

He looked at her intently, and she leaned in, hypnotized. He opened his mouth, and Scarlett could see what he was about to say was crucial. But then Ella pulled his shaft.

"Uncle Rhett… You had promised us a game of hide and seek!"

He blinked, as if he had forgotten it, then laughed at it. The hand slipped from Scarlett's.

"Alright, little Ella. But I still have another thing to say to your mother."

"It can wait," Scarlett replied cheekily as she raised. "After all, I'll be playing too."

His eyebrows raised in surprise and she smiled widely.

She took the full glass from him and drank from it. With that came the bottle, with remnants of blue wax, pretty and promising.

"That was my drink," He remarked on, amused.

"I'm the one that has to do the waiting. I'm the one that deserves it. If you want it that much, you'll have to find me quicker."

She winked at him while he laughed and followed the children while they hid. It reminded her of when she was little, when her own father was the one counting and seeking, and the thrill of it was even now much greater for now it was Rhett that would look for her. He would be the one trying to find her, trying to coax her to come to him.

And when he'd find her…

She shook her head, the blush coming to her ears. No, that wouldn't do, with the children nearby. And yet…

No. She must not think of such a thing. She had to find a good hiding place. She would not make the task easy for him, and she knew he did not expect her to. He'd be even disappointed if she did!

For a time, she looked and looked, and wondered irritably why there were so many flowers in the garden, and not enough trees. But then she had remembered she had been the one to order it. That, and the big sculptures that filled it, to fulfill the romantic vision she had had of what a French garden could be.

But then she found a little pond, lovely with a heavy willow tree quietly letting his branches fall on the dancing water. It was simple, yet with a wild touch. She did not remember ordering that part, but still it pleased her. It made her remember of her story, somehow. She had her hiding spot.

She settled behind the willow tree and waited. Yet, somehow, the roots were too coarse for her, and she let herself slip on the comfier bed of grass and flowers.

She took another sip, trying to calm the heavy beatings of her heart. But it seemed to worsen. The excitation was so much for her to bear, that even the taste of it seemed strange.

She closed her eyes, hazy, the tip of her fingers tickling, before becoming numb. On her tongue was a bitter taste she wanted to get rid of.

She let the darkness fall around her.

…

On the other side of the property, Rhett was waiting, ready to pounce.

Sighing over the theft of this new bottle that had been sent to him, certainly by one of his associates, he tapped his fingers, before taking his own flask of whiskey.

No one could ever reproach him of being impatient. Yet, this chase was one he could not wait to take part in.

He had his own fear to vanquish before they could finally be happy, he knew that. These fears tended to be triggered easily, and it sometimes like he was waiting for it, wondering how long happiness could last. This had been what he had realized yesterday, when, full of jealousy, he had pushed her to sell that ring. That cursed ring.

He knew it was petty since the very beginning. It was for him the proof and the consequence of her superficiality, and each time he had doubted himself, he could think of it and turned it as her fault. Of course, it was her fault, she could not even recognize glitter from gold, fake stone from a true emerald! Oh, the reassuring thing, to think that he was not the one being wrong! There, he had control, and could think he was in the right to do what he did. In the right to punish her more and more, until she understood.

And now, he understood. And the picture was terrible for him. For all of her faults, he realized he was also the one that had made his own nightmare and now it was difficult to turn it entirely into a dream.

This was what she had made him realize, when she took him to his words, and still managed to forgive him for that. Instead of another tantrum that would have amused him and persuaded him he was right, she had confronted him, and still assured him of her love.

Whatever that old Olsen had told him. Whatever scheme she had, she had given it up. Or at least would soon. He needed to trust she would.

He needed to trust she loved him, and only him.

The irony of the scheme was not lost on him, though.

He had to find a way to mend it. And not to become the unworthy and petty husband, ruminating about past offenses, of a remarkable woman.

Encouraging her to learn had been difficult for him. It was helping her to improve, to the risk that she became his equal, or even superior to him and lost interest. The fear was maybe irrational, and surprising when he had always felt confident about himself. He had been a terrific blockade runner, fearless and shrewd. He was attractive, and knew how to charm, whether men or women. Short-sightedness had never been his fault, quite the contrary, and he prided himself in that.

And yet, with her, it had never seemed to be enough. She always managed to surprise him, even when she was doing what he thought she would. For on these moments, he wanted nothing else than for her to do something else.

Not to mention he realized with horror that with time and age, his mind was not as elastic as it was before. Not that his intellectual abilities were impaired, of course not! But he found it harder to change and move on, especially with Bonnie's death that had for a long time frozen his feelings.

The orphanage would be a way to show they could work together. A way to build up their trusts in one another, like it should have been. Show her that when they were united, they could be unstoppable. They had spent so many times divided, that the few moments were they were one were difficult to retrieve. But she had made him want to fight again, and she would see what kind of husband she had married.

His clock ticked and he smirked. The time was up.

He found Ella and Caroline first, hidden not very subtly behind a shrub that was barely larger than them. Ella squealed in glee, but the other let out a scream, then ran back to the house.

He sighed, still a little troubled by the sight of that dark-haired girl with blue eyes.

That girl had seen too many things, he could sense it. She was quiet, but certainly even wilder than the other boy. They were like two little animals, and it would take more time to properly tame them, he knew.

But they would not be the ones to do so, he reflected. Not if the orphanage worked.

He took Ella's hand and cheered her up, before looking for Wade.

The boy was harder to find. He was smart, and certainly used to hiding. It took some time, and he was surprised not to find his wife first, unsubtle as she could be. But then, it was even better like that.

They found Wade under the thick bushes of roses, and the sight of him was almost laughable, with his clothes a bit torn by the thorns, and the petals stuck on his hair. Certainly, his mother would not be pleased. But then it felt good to see that the boy had played the game and loosen up a little.

He gathered them and eyed them in conspiration.

"Now, will you let me find your mother alone, children? I want to surprise her, and I believe it would be easier to be on my own for that."

"But…" Ella pouted.

Wade looked at him a moment, then seemed to understand. He smiled at his little sister and put his arm around her.

"Come Ella. If we come, she'd hear you, and that wouldn't be a surprise."

"Oh." Ella's head lowered in disappointment.

Fondly, Rhett smiled at them.

"Go back to the house, I'm sure Prissy will have put the cakes on the table."

There, she brightened.

"Yes! Cake, cake, cake!"

She chanted it as she went away with Wade, who now seemed more than a little embarrassed by it.

Laughing, he turned away. This had been better than he thought, and he could not wait to see where that vixen could have hidden herself.

The obvious parts had been explored. Now was left his pond, and it surprised him she even remarked it. Yet, it was a part where he had taken Bonnie many times and delighted in her laughter and plays. He had told her stories there, enjoyed the way she patted at the water while he leaned on the tree.

He touched the bark of it, smiling at the memory, before rounding it. There, the smile widened, and his breath was taken away.

Surrounded with flowers, her lustrous dark hair spread on the grass, Scarlett looked very much like the Ophelia of Millais, peaceful, beautiful in her innocence. Her lips were half opened, as if sleep had taken her by surprise after the kiss of a lover. Yet, this painting was an unconventional one, with the presence of the half-emptied glass in her hand, and the bottle on the other. Maybe that's what made it even more endearing.

He thought he would be happy to spend the rest of his life looking at her.

But then, a better happiness was in the making, and he couldn't wait to begin it.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," He whispered to her tenderly, stroking her cheek, before stealing a kiss from these lips.

Yet, she was cold and unmoving. Dread came to his heart.

"Scarlett? Wake up, darling…" He said more forcefully, shaking her lightly, then harder.

Her eyes opened in half, filled with pain.

"Rhett? … I… my throat…"

He sniffed the glass and cursed.

"Pork!" He called, trying to control the urgency from his tone. "Call Doctor Meade. And tell Prissy to take the children to the nursery. NOW!"

He took her into his arms, whispering urgently to her. She looked at him without seeing, and as time passed, he felt she was about to close her eyes. Which wasn't right. He couldn't let her do that!

He led her to her chambers and lay her on the bed, not thinking that maybe he could have laid her on a nearer place.

He paused, surprisingly undecided.

Seeing her now, in that bed, he was tempted to run, to flee all these feelings that came to him, contradictory and fearsome. It made him remember once again of her days of ailment after the miscarriage, when he had been miserably waiting for an answer, for her call. Before running away from the fear of it all. He could not bear seeing her like that. It was a pain akin to one shot at his lung, the wound reaching little by little his heart.

And yet, he could not bear the thought of her suffering without being able to do anything to help her. Not anymore. He would not wait for her call, this time.

He stayed firmly at her side, his eyes not leaving her.

"Scarlett! Open your eyes, darling, fight!" He shouted, shaking her little frame to make her come back. "Come on!"

She shook her head.

"Hot… Sleepy…"

"No, don't you dare sleep on me, you little harpy!" He snarled. "Talk to me…. Stay with me… Anything!"

"Rhett?... No, he's not there…"

"It's me, it's Rhett… " He squeezed her hand hard, scowling. " Of course, I'm there, you foolish woman! How can you doubt it?"

"Where… is it?" She shook her head, agitated. "It hurts…"

"Where what? Scarlett, talk to me!"

"What?... I can't…"

"Of course, you can, darling, don't be so melodramatic!"

She seemed to scowl. A hint of consciousness came to her eyes.

"You are… a cad."

"Yes, I am… Now continue…" But as he saw she was drifting again, he tried to find another subject. And surprisingly, this came to his mouth: "The tale! Tell me what happens in your tale!"

She blinked at him, dumbfounded.

"My tale?"

"Yes, yes. Solene, where is she going?"

"She…"

"Yes, continue. What is she doing?"

"She's hot. And lost… She's looking for…"

"What is she looking for?"

"A shelter… from the sun…"

"Yes, it's hot, you said that. So, that shelter?"

"I don't know…"

"Damn you if you don't know! Tell me she's going to be fine!"

"She… Rhett…"

"Scarlett?!"

"There's a fire… in the shelter…" She uttered with difficulty, her eyes feverish and distressed. "The children… We need to send them away."

"Send them away?"

"They're not safe here… The fire… No one is safe, here… Please, Rhett…" She gripped his cloth, looking at him despairingly. "Send them to Tara. Yes, to Tara, they will be safe… With Mammy…" Then, she paused, distracted. "No, it's Esther… She is called Esther… That's how I should call her…"

"Damn it, Scarlett, you always have the knack to focus on irrelevant details!"

At least it showed she was better than he thought.

"And the boy… needs protection… He has seen…"

"What, dear?" He asked, before shaking his head. "By God, I don't give a damn! Get well, damn you!"

But she did not seem to have heard him.

"You'll make sure of it, Rhett?"

"Anything, Scarlett… God, just rest and get well, honey... Please… Don't you leave us that way."

Don't leave _me_ … He wanted to say.

"I love you."

Now that was too much!

"No 'I love you'! Not now! Foolish woman, stop acting as if you are going to die!"

"Don't leave me!"

"I won't. I promise. But you have to promise the same. Promise me, Scarlett!"

"The fire… Where to go…? Rhett…"

"Damn you, Scarlett, there's no fire but the one in your veins! Promise me!"

"… yes."

"Mr. Butler?"

He jumped, ready to berate the one who dared disturbing him. To an outsider, he seemed like the devil himself, imposing and fearsome, his eyes glinting dangerously, his face dark and ominous.

He did not recognize Doctor Meade at first, but when he did, it calmed him, as much as his wife's light grip on him, sign she was still here with him.

The man, if he seemed to be afraid for one moment, recovered. He had certainly already been confronted with that kind of situation, and he had learned with time that his role as a doctor helped not being impressed a long time by such behavior. He looked at Rhett pointedly, hoping the shaking of his hand did not show. He tried to hold onto the glass and the bottle that the servant had shown him.

"I'll need to be alone with my patient."

Alone? _Alone_?

Rhett raised softly, looking at Scarlett, who just closed his eyes. His fists clenched, unclenched. Then he pushed them to his pockets and went away without a glance, swiftly as if he was running away.

He waited for a time, eager for every sound coming from that room. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the doctor opened the door and turned to him. The eyes of the old man were severe on him.

"Did you give her the draught today?"

Taken aback, he retreated.

"What? No. No, of course."

The doctor did not seem to believe it. He sniffed once again the glass, before putting it back with a sigh.

"I've seen this before. I told you. When heavily dosed, the medicine has worrying effects."

"Are you accusing _me_?"

"I'm pointing out facts. It's fortunate she had been given some before. It could have been worse. Her body got used to it. She's not in danger."

"Oh, thank God."

His shoulders fell in relief.

"Nevertheless, she needs to rest. It seems she hasn't been sleeping properly these days, and it weakened her body a bit."

Rhett nodded numbly. Of course. And with her nightmares, it must certainly not have helped.

But as always, she would be alright. She had to be.

This thought put him at ease, but it did not divert him from another fact: someone was after him, hated him so much that they did not care if others would be involved in this. He knew his wife's enemies. He knew what could make them stop. Yet, this one was new, and with means he did not recognize.

And now he was in for the kill. This had only been his first attempt. The other may be more dangerous. The matter was becoming more and more urgent. They needed to go. At least until he could find a solution.

"Thank you, Doctor Meade, for coming so swiftly," He said, seeing the man was still there.

Doctor Meade nodded, still eyeing him suspiciously. Yet he still went away, and Rhett, after a time considering what to do, called Pork.

"We'll need to pack the mistress' things for Tuesday. And the children's too."

"You goin', master?"

"Yes, Pork. We'll be traveling for a time," He answered briskly. "Do it discreetly, Pork. This will be a surprise."

He then went to the children and dismissed that Scottish man Scarlett had hired, still uneasy with his presence. He played with them, affecting nothing queer had happened, other than their mother might have caught a cold. In the same way, he brought them to the dinner table, and assured himself it would be served to Scarlett too, and with generous portions.

Damn, if she did not eat it all, he would force it to her mouth!

But when he came to the door, he had the satisfaction to see that Prissy had gone from it with an empty trail.

It was generally a good sign. She had recovered.

He knocked, then entered at her request.

His eyes quickly found her, sitting on her bed with her hair flowing down her shoulders like an untied silky scarf. She was still very pale, but the colors had returned to her, from the entrancing green emerald of her eyes to the luscious red of her lips. She had changed into a thin nightgown, that was barely hiding the delicious swell of her chest.

But most importantly, she had the glow of life still clinging to her.

"Scarlett…" He said, almost breathless at the sight of her, before regaining his composure. "You made us worried."

"Did I?" Her eyes were twinkling. "Were _you_ so very much…?"

"Almost," He bit back a smile at her attempt.

Oh, curse his pretending not to love her anymore. It had no sense anyway, and now he could see it had been more of a defense for himself than a true protection for her. He was going to say everything to her. When she finally dropped her act too.

Swiftly, he went to her side, his steps light and gracious as those of a panther. He felt akin to the feline anyhow, which was fitting with such a wife. Her eyebrow went up at that gesture.

"You have something to tell me. I feel it, you're eyeing at me like that again."

"Like what again?"

"Oh, you know," She tapped her fingers, irritated, and a frown adorned her features, before it softened and she leaned towards him. "Oh, please, Rhett, say it. I'm exhausted and dying of curiosity!"

"No, you're not dying," And there, the chuckle was a little forced. He paused, considering her one last time, before shooting the first arrow. "But you're right. I have something to tell you. After the ball, I will have to leave. I can't stay any longer. I'm sure you knew that already."

She froze. Nodded.

"Alright," She said, as if she was taking it lightly. Yet, it failed miserably. "Yes, you've told me. Paris, isn't it? Or Venice? Alright. Alright. Will you bring me a gift?"

He shook his head, almost amused. She was going to make it harder for him, wasn't she?

"I expect I will not have to."

Another falter. Soon would be the breaking point.

"I'll send to you the story by letters then. At least if you don't figure it out before."

He was tempted to chuckle.

"You won't have to."

She was going to ask him. He knew that. He was waiting for it. He could see her reflecting on her options, could almost see the mechanisms of her mind working quickly until it clicked.

"Rhett…"

"Yes, Scarlett?"

"If I ask you something crazy, would you agree?"

"Ask and we'll see."

He refrained from a smile of triumph.

Her hand clenched at her side, crumpling the sheets. Her eyes raised to meet his, and it was like she was about to enter a battlefield, from the heady flame that danced in them.

"You want to go? Alright, I won't stop you. But you have to give me something." Her eyes were fierce and determined as she stared at him. "Let's pretend."

He froze, taken aback. Not to mention the word offended him.

"Pretend?"

What was there to pretend? Their life was already pretending not to care when they did, and now hours after she played the agonizing woman, now she asked him that?

The vixen, she had almost made him worry!

"Two days," She continued decidedly. "I ask you of two days of what could have been. Two days of understanding, without suspicion. How you would have wanted us to be. You'll bring me to the ball on Monday, and you will stay and dance with me. And then you can go wherever you want to go," She raised her head proudly, her eyes daring. "You owe me fun, Rhett Butler. This is a debt you need to pay."

"Fun?" He repeated. "Yes, fun. Alright, then. Fun, there will be."

His mouth went down as he tried to hide the disappointment he felt. But still, she cocked her head, as if confused. His eyes down, his finger idly caressing her hip. He felt her shiver under his touch, and he was tempted to laugh, his eyes glinting. He smirked.

Oh, pretend, then? Like that? He thought about it, then smiled. He could turn it into his advantage. He would make her see it was more than pretending. She'd be caught up in her own game. By Monday, she'll have him under her skin, as much as he had her under his. She'll be the one to ask him to take her with him.

She was a wild card, indeed. But he knew he could make that card become his greatest ally. Yet, she needed to be the one to take the initiative. His beloved Scarlett was never more convinced and irresistible when she thought she was the one making the decision and pushing people to do her bidding.

When she would ask him to take her and the children with him, he would accept graciously. It would give her a sense of power, but then he would be the one to hold it. A situation that would satisfy them both.

But then, there was another satisfaction he wanted to get, with the temporary crush of his hopes, and all the fears of the day. His finger went up, lifting a little her nightgown. He saw her biting her lip, her pupils growing as she stared at him.

"Can't we grant each other… one little celebration of life to seal it?"

There, the green emeralds burned brightly with indignation.

"I was the one whose life had been endangered, not you. I should be the one to demand it."

"Semantics, my dear. And you were not in danger," He retorted as he kissed her passionately.

Oh, thank God, yes. Thank her glorious, stubborn body clinging to life and adapting like a hungry dog would to a bone, he thought with relief as he pressed her against him, the tips of her breasts delightfully hard on his chest. Her hands raised from his shoulders to his hair, urging him as she opened her mouth to him, inviting him. He felt himself hardening as she arched herself against him, like a cat under the caress of his master.

Could he make her purr? Oh, he certainly wanted that.

He tasted the skin down her mouth, the fierce little chin, and the agonizingly sweet curve of the throat where he could feel her pulse, and it was sweet and spicy, a delicacy he delighted on without feeling satiated.

He bit her lightly on the neck, soothing it with his tongue, and sucked, making his mark on the white skin. She was his, just as he was hers, and nothing would take her from him, not even death. He wanted to believe it, no, needed. She was the most real thing in his life now, the one thing he wanted to fight for, her and the children, and he wanted to bind them to him, so that they would never be apart again.

She moaned loudly against him, and he thought he would be driven mad by it.

"Mamaaaa!"

He cursed, his hold on Scarlett still tight.

Hadn't he told one of the servants to look after them? Damn them.

Quick steps were heard, then a surprising pausing in front of the door. And finally a tiny knock on the door.

Scarlett began to push him away.

"Rhett! Get up!"

"No."

"Get up, you rascal!" She hissed. "You're crushing me."

"You didn't seem to mind, moments ago."

"Oooh!"

There, her attempts were a little more forceful.

He chuckled. "Alright, don't ruffle your fur, my darling. I'm getting up. For now."

He observed her with amusement.

She cleared her throat.

"You can enter, Ella."

The door opened carefully, showing the little girl who was lowering her head as if chastened, yet with eyes that raised toward her mother. Then, when he gestured her to come, she hurried up and jumped on the bed. He was about to berate her, worried it might upset Scarlett, but he had the surprise to hear her giggle.

"I heard your cry, mama," Ella said, a worried frown marking her little forehead. "Were you hurt?"

A smile was drawn on her lips.

"Yes, I was, dear Ella. I believe I've been attacked by a panther."

Rhett cocked an eyebrow up, amused.

"Oh, poor mama, she had bitten you in the neck too…" He guffawed, undisturbed by Scarlett's glare and attack of the elbow. "That was really a panther? Where is she?"

"You scared her away, my brave girl," She said tenderly, before her eyes twinkled with mischief. "Or maybe she's in me!"

"Does that mean you're going to eat me?" Ella blinked, as if a little unsure by her mother's antics.

"Very much so!"

That said, she jumped on the girl who cried in delight as she was tickled to tears by her mother.

"Stop, mama!" Ella giggled. "You're… not a panther!"

"Mother?"

Scarlett stopped, her eyes opening wide. Then she smiled largely.

"Come, Wade," She said as she opened her arms to him.

Rhett was amazed to see the two children coming so confidently to their mother's embrace, as much as her offering of it.

How far they had come, all of them. A surge of pride and love came to him. And yet, this change had not happened because of him. Somehow, this gave another flavor to it, pleasant yet a bit lonely. It ticked a bit his ego, but then he knew it was better like that.

It was his family. Here lay his heart. And he would do anything for them.

"Oh, come, Uncle Rhett!" Wade protested. "Don't stay on your own like that!"

He laughed, then joined them, his arms long enough to gather them. This was how it was meant to be, he thought. Finally.

"I like it when we're all like that," Ella cooed, a pleased smile on her face.

Scarlett's eyes opened and crossed his.

"I like it too," She whispered softly.

There, the embrace ended, but the proximity stayed, Wade sitting on his mother's left side. Ella was settled between her legs, and Scarlett combed her curly hair in an absent-minded way.

"Were you so very worried?"

"Oh, yes, I was! And Wade cried a lot!"

There, said boy raised in outrage.

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"Did not!"

"It's alright to cry," Their mother said softly, before a teasing flame came to her eyes as they met his. "After all, I think your Uncle Rhett did too…"

He chuckled.

"This, my dear, is a drop of sweat. Taking care of you is a tiresome sport."

She stuck out her tongue at him.

"Oh, fiddle-dee-dee! I've never seen you sick…"

"… and you won't see me like that…"

"… but I'm sure you are an even worse patient than I!"

"Yes, you're right. You actually are quite a lovely patient," He said as he caressed her cheek, and she leaned to his touch, appeased.

In front of them, Wade cleared his throat, snickering while Ella was blushing.

He composed himself, though the sight of his wife blushing over such a little thing threatened to break his resolve not to laugh.

"So, what did you do while your mother was amusing herself playing sick?"

If she scowled at his jest, he saw that she quickly understood why he did this. Which did not stop her from cheekily pushing him.

Wade frowned at this, but then, he could see it was all treated in a good-natured way, and said nothing. It somehow made him smile. Rhett did not take much time to ponder on it, other than the fact it was generally reassuring for a child to see their parents visibly getting along, for with his arm around Scarlett's waist, he pushed her against him, and she nuzzled on his chest.

Ella took it by the word and laughed.

"Oh, mama, that was wrong of you to do so!" She said, before pondering. "Caroline was really nice. And Billy gave me a flower to comfort me."

"Did he now?" He cocked his eyebrow up, amused.

He felt the slight sting of her hand on his thigh as Scarlett chided him.

"Oh, fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett!"

He shrugged, the smile not leaving his face.

"Will you bring flowers for mama too?"

"I don't know. Does your mama need comforting?"

"Of course not!" She scoffed, crossing her arms, though a smile crept to her lips. "Though I wouldn't refuse flowers."

He laughed.

"Of course, you wouldn't."

In the room, the clock rang, the piercing sound startling them. At their side, Ella's eyes widened and lightened up.

"Oh…"

"What is it, Ella?"

"It's time for the story!" She turned towards her mother, her little mouth pouting in such a way he could see the similarity. "Will you tell it tonight, mama?"

"Of course, sweetheart!"

Rhett looked at Scarlett, unsure. She still needed rest, despite her words.

"Don't look at me like that, Rhett!" She scolded lightly. "I'm no agonizing woman. I'm much better!"

"I'll bring Caroline and Billy!" Ella cried, before pausing with the others' baffled eyes on her. "What? It'd be unfair if they were left out!"

She came back with the two children, urging them to hurry, while Wade looked at them with an amused smile. Caroline looked at the boy questioningly. He seemed a bit ill-at-ease by such a role of reassurance, but still, he nodded.

Rhett observed them fondly, though he could see Scarlett was still wondering if it was truly fitting to have invited them here.

Of course it wasn't fitting. And yet, now they were here. He did not quite know himself what to do with them for the moment, except that he knew that Scarlett had insisted on the boy in particular. Why, he thought he had guessed it to some extent. But there would be a need for some enlightenment later.

Caroline and Billy settled silently at the foot of the bed, little silhouettes almost unnoticeable with the enormity of the dark wood filled with carvings.

He saw her clearing her throat before beginning.

To be fair, Rhett did not listen to every one of her words. No, he was too much focused on the way her body moved, filled with life. He thought she rambled a little about the pain of running haphazardly, visibly quite affected by the way he was playing with her hair, and he took a devious pleasure at troubling her so for such little things. Soon, the lock joined others, and he tucked it carefully in a braid. She scowled at him, but he looked at her innocently.

"… And there, she found the formidable pirate Robert!"

"I knew she would find him again!" Wade reacted.

"Where was he?" Ella asked.

"He was in a prison," Scarlett replied, a cheeky glance on his direction. "See, children, he had been a very bad boy in this new adventure of his, and now he had been caught by his enemies who wanted him to pay."

Oh, she was really going to replay their time there, wasn't she?

"And certainly a very heavy ransom," He commented, waggling his brows. "But I'm surprised, my dear."

"What about?"

"You've said nowhere that your heroine needed money. And nowhere in your tale you said she was one to accept people back freely like that."

She straightened and put her fists on her hips.

"I've said she loved him. But then if he's decided to be a cad, maybe she should try to steal some from him."

"But isn't stealing bad?"

Caroline had intervened, and blushed as they looked at her in surprise. Rhett then could see the effect of the education of the nuns in her. All the rules she had learned, but that did not register completely on her behavior.

"It is," He said softly. "But then sometimes people have no choice. Stealing is better than staying hungry or without a home, don't you think?"

This time, the girl did not run away. She nodded, her hand gripping a little more the wood. He saw Billy looking at him intensely, and wondered, uneasy, at the meaning of this gaze.

Scarlett squeezed his hand, and he saw gratefulness at his intervention. His eyes softened, realizing the question had not been totally easy for her too.

"When she found him," She said softly. "she felt so happy. Yet, she did not know if she could show it. And… he seemed happy too."

"He was. Very much."

"Of course he was!" Ella intervened. "They love each other!"

He looked at his wife, at the expectant light in her eyes.

No, not now. She was too impatient.

"She loves him. Very much," She said. "And she tried to make him escape from the prison to join her. Yet he refused."

"How so?" Wade protested. "If he could run away with her?"

A new glint brightened the green eyes as they narrowed on him teasingly, the nose lightly wrinkling.

"He wanted her to beg him for that. And then go back to other adventures on his own."

Rhett was tempted to laugh. "Oh, maybe not. But maybe he needs the right incentive."

"And what would the right incentive be?"

His eyes went to her lips, and he saw the pulpy little mouth stretch in a daring smile.

"What do you think?"

"That's stupid of him to shilly-shally like that. No one shoud stay in prison. My Da' certainly did not."

Billy crossed his arms, so focused that for the first time he did not seem to mind the attention.

"I agree with you, Billy," Wade insisted with a smirk on Rhett's direction. "If he loves her, he'd better say it and do anything to go with her. Not just wait."

Oh, the little traitor! Since when was he doubting of his methods?

"And kiss her!" Ella added. "On the mouth!"

At her side, Scarlett laughed, and then there was mischief once again in her eyes.

"Oh, but then, for him, the story wouldn't be that enjoyable, would it?"

"Well, each good story had a lot of obstacles before the final… hurray," He replied, playing the game. "It's what makes the story worth living. And even more exciting."

Her eyes darkened and he gulped his saliva, before composing himself.

"There, there, children. It'll be all. Your mother is tired. She needs her beauty sleep."

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett! I don't need sleep to be pretty," She protested, batting her lashes.

He chuckled.

"No, my dear. But you need it all the same."

He leaned in, his hand caressing the back of her head tenderly. His lips grazed her forehead and she closed her eyes, content. He took her in, letting a smile slip on his face at seeing her pout.

"Goodnight, Scarlett."

No 'my love', like these games they were playing, where he was trying to make her see repeat the word won't make it senseless. After all, she did say she wanted two days, with him showing her "what could have been". What would be. Days of peace, of love, it sounded right for him. Her name was enough to convey his feelings, and he felt almost uneasy by the amount of love and tenderness he managed to show with just uttering it. Yet, he could see she was offering also a way out of it, and he appreciated it.

"Goodnight, my love," She whispered lovingly, and as much as he wanted to stay, she still hadn't asked him. And he was sure their reunion would be even more worth it with a little bit of waiting. He would feed the flame until it grew. And when it'd burn bright and hot, she would not be able to resist. Then their story would truly begin.


	24. Chapter 24

At his desk, Rhett Butler ignored the man in front of him to write some words down on the page of his books. He could see his hand tensing on the pen, making it almost painful to move it. Yet, he knew his writing was impeccable, and it did not show on his face. At least no more than a disapproving frown.

A deliberate gesture of dominance. It was one that his father had been very fond of, back in his age, And Rhett found himself very irritated at the similitude when the thought came to his mind.

He put the pen down, sighing.

"Mr. McConach. You may take a seat."

Said man looked a bit uneasy at his surroundings, and then Rhett realized the chair in front of him may not be enough. He rolled his eyes, before raising, leaving his own seat to get closer. His arms crossed on his chest as he looked up.

A tall man himself, Rhett had never been intimidated by height. This man made no exception, especially when he knew what kind of person he was. He had had too many people like him under his commands back in the days when he was blockading.

"I'm sure you've guessed why I summoned you."

"I think you don't like very much the idea of me here."

Rhett smirked

"Precisely. You're an intelligent man. I'm sure we can come to an arrangement."

Yet Mr. McConach had a stubborn expression on his face.

"It is the Mrs. that hired me to watch over the children."

A surprising attempt at struggle. He could almost admire that tentative of loyalty.

"And it is the Mr. that tells you your service is no longer required," Rhett retorted. "Tomorrow, you'll leave with the children on the train. But you'll leave them at the next station. My men will make sure of that."

"You won't have to do that. I'll resign earlier than that," The Scot replied, before fidgeting, a malicious glint in his eyes. "yet… I'll need some compensation."

"Of course," Rhett did not even bat a lash. "I should have known loyalty could always be bought. Even for Scots."

The red came to the red-haired man's cheeks.

"Did it work with your wife?"

Rhett's hands clenched painfully, his jaw tightening. The bite was coarse, but it hit him accurately.

"Get. Out." He hissed. "Take your money and go."

The man grinned.

"We'll see each other tomorrow, then. I'm not sure you'd like the Missus to know you've dismissed one of her employees without talking to her about it…"

"Get. Out."

Once his door closed, Rhett sighed, then opened the drawer of his desk.

He looked at the ring, hesitant. This time, he'll make it right, he thought.

Yet, why did the right thing seem so difficult to do? Why did that man's words have to affect him like that?

He knew why. This man was the sign that his wife had been involved in a plot on her own, one plot that did not go along with his own.

He'll give it to her. Yes, on Tuesday morning, when she'll ask him to take her with him.

But the children would leave first for Marietta. They needed to get away from all of this, until Scarlett and he could join them. Then their lives together would truly begin.

He closed the box and put it in his satchel.

He left the room and joined Scarlett and the children, putting a smile on his face.

"Shall we go, dear wife?" He bowed lightly, taking off his hat in half mockery.

Her eyebrow raised and he saw the twitch on the right side of his mouth, a sign of her irritation. Yet she held her head high more than it should and handed him her hand to him like an English princess.

"We certainly shall, husband."

The children looked at them strangely and he was tempted to laugh. He kissed her knuckles, his eyes deep into hers, daring her to drop her act.

But she wouldn't. And he was even more amused by this.

"I've seen Patrick leave your office. Is everything alright?"

"Yes. I just had something to tell him."

She blinked, seeming to consider his answer, then nodded, and he felt bewildered at her acceptance. But then he remembered her challenge and shrugged. She'd give it up sooner than him.

Swiftly, they made their way to Mass, as the exemplar citizens they had to pretend they were.

He stopped, hesitant, his gaze erring on the rosette of the glass window before they entered the church.

He had never been a particularly religious man. Belief did not like questioning, whether it was in a practical sense or not, and he was a man with a lot of questioning indeed. Not to mention paradise and hell were a matter that was used by others to make them do their biddings, and he was not really fond of that whip.

His hand closed automatically around hers as he felt her touch. They moved forward.

So many stares on them, remembering him that nothing lasted. He had charmed all these people long ago, offering them his services when they needed it. They opened their doors to him as it pleased them. How lucky he was to be a man, he thought bitterly. Or else there was no way they would ever deign look at him without him begging them for mercy. Soon, they'll look at him with new eyes when the need would come.

And he had once taken their side…

At his side, Scarlett squeezed his hand.

She was there, more constant than he ever thought she could be. He had to hold on to this. He couldn't afford to get lost in his doubts and fears, that he had build and feed for so long. They were not exactly the same persons as before. The world had often tried them, and he had run away too many times. This time, he would fight the urge to run all by himself, away from his doubts, from her actions and the fears to be betrayed.

He would run away _with_ her. Away from it all, they'll build on a fresh new ground. He felt sure she would agree to the idea. After all, she seemed to have given up her attempt at changing the decoration...

At his right, Scarlett prayed, but he could see in her eyes other words were spoken. Yet words that were more of a matter of habit than of true faith.

He'd show her the cathedral of Paris, its white façade with the statues of the saints looking at them from above, high on their pedestal. He'd see her eyes widening at the towers and their ornaments, the sumptuous rosette of the middle, the gargoyles grinning at them and the gracious colons. And when they'd be inside, she'd see how much more magnificent it was…

When the masquerade ended, they went back to the house and dined. And he wondered lazily for another time what on earth they would have to do with these two additional children that were still in the house.

Not that they were particularly disturbing. Rhett had always liked children, and somehow, he could see Wade and Ella were happy to have them. Especially Wade, for it gave the boy a responsibility that made him feel like a grown-up. But then, it also made him remember little Bonnie.

When Scarlett had held that babe from Maybelle Picard, it had stroked a painful cord in him, bittersweet for it brought back too many memories. Her miscarriage, the miserable days when he thought he would lose her, Bonnie, her accident, her funerals, miss Melly's death after her own loss… And the day he left, with Scarlett telling him they could have another child…

At that time, the idea had been offensive to him, a betrayal to the memory of his beloved daughter, and he foolishly believed she mustn't have grieved the girl very much if she thought of replacing her.

Opening his heart to Scarlett was difficult enough. Bringing a child into this, when their consolidations were still a bit fragile seemed a folly.

She had seemed so soft, though. Tender. There had been a wistful look on her face, and he could see she wanted it.

And he didn't even know if he would want it, with everything it could entitle. If he would ever be ready to open his heart even more.

Taking refuge in the study, he ran through a few books, before pacing and examining his surroundings. He felt surprised at finding a chest under the desk, and it made him even more curious when he found out it was locked.

Another mystery that was associated with his wife, and he did not really like it very much. Though in afterthought he berated himself, remembering he was still keeping his own secrets from her.

He did not like getting stuck like that.

He called Pork and asked him after his wife.

"She be bassing, master Rhett," was his answer.

He smirked. Well, that was convenient. And perhaps an opportunity to move things a little more swiftly.

He knocked, then opened the door of her room.

A light smoke came from the tub, white and filled with an intoxicating scent of magnolia.

She was humming all by herself, like the Antonia of _the Monk_ , a naiad joyfully plunging in and out of the water and sighing with delight as she finally leaned back.

Looking at her, he forgot the chest.

Then, she took notice of him and froze, surprised. The color raised on her cheeks, blooming like a rose before his eyes.

"You shouldn't be here…"

He gave her an amused smile.

"Are you disturbed by my presence, my dear? I thought you wanted us to be how it could have been."

He made the gesture to turn back, but she called him.

"No… stay."

Silently, he nodded and sat on the chair.

Her cheeks were burning red, and he wanted to kiss them to release her from her inhibitions. His prudish, yet sensual Scarlett… Still a bit locked on that cage the society had built for her, but she was learning to open the door.

He remembered that night in the library, and how she answered to his touch, and it set his heart on fire. He remembered her eyes on him, filled with a feeling she did not even repress, nor seemed to know how to control it, though she tried to fight it. He had felt the light struggle, and the surrender at his kiss… And her kisses…

He lit up a cigar and took a puff of it.

"When are we going to send Wade and Ella to Tara, Rhett?"

He stopped.

"You still want to do this?"

"I'll feel… safer if they were at Tara."

"Did you talk to your sister about it?"

"She… told me it would be fine."

It was a lie, he knew it. Suellen had sold her share of Tara, and now Scarlett was confirming what he suspected: she had been the one to pay the deed.

He had to refrain himself from laughing at the irony. He had wanted to put the deeds himself at her feet. But it seemed she had pulled the rug out from under him.

Why she was lying to him about that, he had his suspicions. Well, that, and Olsen's little admissions. She certainly did not want to tell him how she had used the hapless Todd Smith to get them, and she knew he wouldn't leave it to her simply saying she got them.

She could keep that secret for now. He had sworn there would be no suspicion, and he intended to keep that promise. He knew now that she would say it one day or another, and he couldn't wait to tease her about it.

It was a bit of a calm before the storm, but he knew he could control that storm. It would make her realize she had nothing to hide from him, that he would always know it sooner and later.

And that it had no effect on his love. Gone was the resentful husband. Gone the heavy silences when both of them did not dare to say sorry or that they were wrong.

Once they'll see they had nothing to hide from the other, everything would be alright. And they would finally work together, like it should have been.

"You'll make sure they'll be safe, right, Rhett? ... Of course, there'll be Patrick, and Mammy…"

He nodded. "I will, Scarlett. Tomorrow, they'll take the next train to Jonesboro. Everything will be prepared for it."

He had already contacted some of his men to look after the house. Yet, he felt uneasy at her insistence on the man he just fired.

Her shoulders relaxed and she sighed in relief. Then she paused, sending him a hesitant glance.

"Could you… rub my back, please?"

His brow arched, and the corner of his mouth went down in amusement.

"If it pleases."

The cigar forgotten, hastily crushed, he knelt behind her, his fingers almost shaking with anticipation. He felt his heart would break from the restrain he was exerting on his body.

She shivered when his big, dark hands scrubbed gently the smooth skin of her back. He could feel tiny goosebumps on her exposed part, little sensitive nerves that he could reach to make her feel his love. She was at first tense, but soon she melted to his touch, humming and leaning towards him, her head falling backward.

He put his hands on each side of her shoulders and put his forehead on hers, chuckling. His thumbs caressed the soft curves.

"You're not making it easy, dear wife."

"Rhett…"

He raised a little, taking her in.

Her eyes were dark on him, and he felt himself getting lost in it, jumping gleefully in the dark water, not caring if he'd float or if he'd drown. And yet if he let his gaze wander, he was even more lost, to the plumb, wetted lips that were waiting for him to kiss, the pointed chin with the dangerous descent of her throat, leading to soft mounds with hardened pink diamonds adorning it. He wettened his lips, his throat running dry.

"What do you want, Scarlett?" He whispered, his voice hoarse. "What is your dearest wish?"

"You know my dearest wish…"

"Say it…"

She smiled sheepishly.

"You know the things with wishes… If you reveal it too soon, they may never happen."

He snorted.

"And you, Rhett? What is it, that you want?"

He blinked, then caressed the roots of her hair fondly, gathering the erring strands.

"It seems a bit unfair to ask me that when you wouldn't answer my question."

She huffed. Her nose wrinkled irresistibly.

"Oh, don't pout, Scarlett. You know it never worked with me."

It was a lie. But it was better than to say every day he had to refrain himself from saying yes to every one of her demands.

"And what _did_ work with you?"

He did not answer. She did not expect him to. Yet she felt the disappointment all the same. She sighed frustratingly and looked away, straightening as she scrubbed her arms with the soap. Then she smiled.

"Do you remember, Rhett?"

"What, my dear?"

"One day, in New Orleans. I think it was our first day there. The day had been hot, and yet you dragged me mercilessly from shop to shop…"

"I seem to remember it was you that insisted to see it."

"Maybe. I remember my feet were sore, and there was you, rambling about the history of the place…"

"Which you never cared to listen…"

"… and there were all these colors, all these houses… It was so different, so exciting!" She smiled softly. "I remember the smells of beignets, lightly powdered with sugar… All these people, dark-skinned, light-skinned, talking oh so scandalously, and you laughing with them…"

"Scoundrels tend to like each other very well."

"And yet even then I knew you were different. You still set yourself apart. You liked them. You knew who they were. Yet you were not totally like them."

"And what makes you say that?"

"The way you talked about them. There was always this… distance."

She leaned her head backward, her eyes rising to meet his.

"Just like the distance there was between you and me. For all your talks about how we were alike, it was always there."

"No. It had never been like that," He said softly. "These scoundrels had no power to hurt me."

"I thought I had no power to hurt you."

"And it was better like that."

Was it? She seemed to ask, her thin, arched brow questioning him.

"I don't absolutely know. I was happy, you know? In a time when it's been too long since I've ever been happy. You were showing me things I had never seen…"

And I intend to do the same, he wanted to say. Let me take you. Let's run away together. Say it. Say it, say it, say it.

"And you were so… nice. Charming."

"I can be. Nice. Charming."

She laughed lightly. "A pirate can be nice. That doesn't mean it's in his nature."

"Ouch."

Yet it was the truth. He had never considered himself as someone nice. Kindness had never served him. To children, it had always been easier. Children never asked how much money they could have. Children never act as if they cared for you, only to leave you behind once they had what they wanted.

"I remember that day. After all this excitement, you brought me to our chambers, taking me in your arms because I couldn't walk anymore. I almost thought you had made me walk all the way just so I would accept it."

"I most certainly did. You always were too stubborn for your own good, berating me when I wanted to take care of you."

"I had almost forgotten how it felt like, to be taken care of by someone else."

"Oh, believe me, I know."

"And yet, here in these chambers… The bathtub was huge and I felt abashed by this. You laughed at my expression, saying it looked like I had never seen a tub in my whole life. You ordered a bath and took off my clothes… The water was tepid, and yet it felt soothing on my skin. You began to rub my back…"

"Like this?" He began once again the soothing gestures.

"Mmmm…" She nodded. "It was just what I needed, and I did not know I needed it."

"You were so tense, love. It felt like scrubbing a ruffling cat."

She hummed.

"Then, you would hold me."

"Do it, Scarlett. Do it," He presented her with the back of his hands, her hands so tiny in his. "My hands are at your commands."

She touched it with anticipation, then intertwined their fingers.

"You would… put your hands around me… Like that."

She crossed his arms around her shoulders, her chin resting on his forearm. So close, the vapor caressed him like a lover's caress.

"And what did you feel, Scarlett, when I did that?"

She hummed, closing her eyes.

"Warm. Safe…"

"You hadn't felt safe for a long time, have you?"

She looked at him intently, a hint of white teeth scraping the tender flesh of her lower lip.

Don't worry, darling, he thought. I am here. I'll protect you.

Will you? She seemed to ask him, before blinking and nodding with a content little smile. Yes, you will.

They stayed comfortably in this position, and he buried his nose in the crook of her neck, savoring the sweet scent of it. He kissed the spot with his open mouth, his desire growing and growing. She sighed, her back arching. Their arms slipped on her body, and he stopped them at the breasts. His thumbs massaged it, testing softly the tenderness of these perfections who fitted so rightly under his palms. She gasped.

"And then…"

She timidly led the right arm lower, then stopped, flustered. He understood her meaning, before she even managed to mumble an ashamed 'I shouldn't'. She let out a 'oh' as he laid his open palm on her sex, the tip of his fingers grazing at the opening.

A satisfied sentiment of possession came to his heart, raising like the rale of a panther in his chest, begging to be let out.

He drew light circles on her with his fingers, ruffling the little hair in there.

She bit her lips, trying to refrain the moan from leaving her pretty mouth.

"You think too much."

"You talk too much," She protested, but with this came the moan.

He smirked.

"Oh… and what are you going to do about it?"

Her eyes opened wide, and he did not have time to react, for she turned back to him and pulled him by the collar. She kissed him. Kissed him fiercely, with a need that echoed with his own. He gathered her against him, with a grip so strong, she fell with him, leading them backward.

And with the covered bathtub full of water with them.

"Great balls of fire!" She cursed as they fell the torrent of it run on their bodies.

But the scoundrel laughed and laughed.

"OOoh!" She pestered at their surroundings. "Look at all this! All this water…"

"Oh, come on, Scarlett, where's your sense of humor? You look like a kitten splattered in water."

His laugh rang still in her ears, intoxicated as he prevented her to leave and took her into his arms. "An adorable kitten…"

She hummed pleasantly, rubbing her cheek against his wetted shirt, the fabric so thin she could feel the pleasant scratch of the dark hair on his chest.

"See. I made you purr…"

"Ooh!" She hit him lightly.

"How fast you can change from purr to hiss, my dear."

Pushing with her forearms, she looked at him with a frown, before it turned to an attempt at a seductive smile.

Which was working more than it should.

"And you, Rhett… How can I make _you_ purr?" She whispered huskily.

He felt himself hardening against her, his heart beating almost like it wanted to leave his chest.

"Oh, darling, don't start anything you won't know how to end."

"You're afraid. But what are you afraid of?" Her fingers patted lightly his chest, like a kitten getting easy on his master. "I can't hurt you anymore, can I?"

Oh, you can hurt me more than you know, he thought. My heart is raw in your hand, darling, and it feels every sharpness of your claws. It has always been.

Yet, he felt that making her completely aware of that fact would make it worse. It was a vulnerability he did not feel at ease to show her. He was beginning to. And that was maybe what made it so difficult.

He caressed her cheek, his hand almost shaking.

He was about to kiss her when the door opened with the shriek of Prissy.

"Oh! Oh!" The servant cried as he leaned his head back on the wettened floor. "How am I gonna clean all it?!"

Scarlett giggled and Rhett soon followed.

"I believe you will have to ask the others, Prissy. Now hand us some towels. Your mistress will be cold if she stays like that."

The girl swiftly left the room. Scarlett sighed, sitting and looking down at him with eyes full of joyful laughter. Her hair was wet, drops of water gathering at the tips, a dark, glinting curtain setting them apart from the world with the smell of rosewater and magnolia.

Sweet.

He cleared his throat.

"I believe, my dear, you will have to raise," He said, before waggling his eyebrows. "Or maybe you want to show me what you've learned through these new readings of yours."

At this, her cheeks burned red and she did so, her hands on her breasts to prevent it from dangling. He laughed at the irresistible spectacle before him, before sitting back and raising. Prissy handed them silently towels while he took off his wetted shirt and shoes, smirking about his wife's not so subtle attempts to take a peak.

As he was about to leave her room, he turned towards her, his hand on the threshold and a smirk on his face.

"By the way, dear," He said. "Be quick about your changing. I'm taking you to the house I've talked to you about."

Her eyes lit up in delighted surprise. Her mouth dropped out a little, like another thing. "For the orphanage? So soon?"

"What can I say? I've been busy," He replied, before innocently pointing out. "Your towel slipped, dear."

She looked down, then scowled, before throwing at him the first thing that came in hand.

Which was said towel. He laughed as he closed the door.

The employees of the house did not seem very amused to see him all wet around the house, but then he did not really care.

Soon enough, they were on their way, her body pressed on his at each bump of the road the buggy had to meet. They chatted easily, companionly, and he felt a soft joy at seeing her leaning on him.

Then he stopped. They had arrived. He helped Scarlett out of the buggy and examined her expression.

For the moment, it let nothing out. The facade was classic, acceptable. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Then they entered and she saw the space, the rooms. He could see the ideas come to her head swiftly, like a fascinating mechanism he wanted to study.

"Oh, that's the thing!" She cried when the visit was done.

He delighted in her excited expression, her eyes like a magical green light as she went from side to side, commenting, suggesting improvements, furniture, curtains…

It made him remember the building of the house with fondness. Except for one thing that he could not help but remark on.

"That's surprisingly simple for you."

"Is that meant to be an insult?"

"No, it's actually… quite nice."

"You really thought I would fill this building with colors, cushions and heavy furniture? Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett," She waved her hand nonchalantly toward him. "there will be children in there. It'll be ruined in an instant."

"That did not stop you last time."

"I think we already talked about that," She teased. "I actually always thought you liked colors. During the wars, you were always bringing me things so bright…"

He chuckled.

"Oh, so you thought you were accommodating my tastes? I'm not sure I appreciate that thought."

She stopped, a sneaky smile raising at one corner of her lips, a finger teasingly tapping them.

"And mine. Well… alright, I admit I was mostly thinking of mine."

He shrugged good-naturedly.

"I wanted you out of the black, darling. At that time, anything would have been good to me."

"And you succeeded in it," She smiled teasingly. "But actually… I think you had a time when you liked colors very much… Now, you can admit it to me."

He laughed. "It may be right. Every day, I would see people with dull colors. Grey, black, brown, beige… You have no idea of many shades of grey I have seen, and how painful it was. I was sick of it. So I _may_ have overdone it."

"Not to mention that when Atlanta was attacked, you came to me with a white immaculate suit."

"Well, wasn't I your knight in shining armor, that day?"

"You mean to tell me you changed especially for me that day?" She shook her head, amused. "You're too much, Rhett."

"All for you, my dear," He winked. "Though pity for me, you hadn't remarked this at the time. I was disappointed, you know. I took great care in choosing that suit."

"Oh, did I hurt your poor little pride?" She teased. "Good."

"You cruel woman."

"Oh, you deserve every bit of it!" She berated him lightly. "I was scared that day, you know."

"I've heard it. You screamed terribly so I thought my ears would never recover. 'Quick, Rhett, quick! Hurry!' I almost thought you would take the reins from me."

"I almost did," She sighed pleasantly, before winking at him. "But I have to say… You were very handsome at that moment."

"And I still am," He waggled his eyebrows.

Her mouth pursed fondly.

"You conceited man."

"King, you mean."

Her pointed chin raised in defiance.

"Who crowned you?"

"You, my dear."

"My fault. You will never let me live this down, will you?"

"Never."

"Pirate king!"

"Oh, you know, the thing with pirates…They're not trustworthy. You might never know when they might do something… completely unexpected."

"Don't I know that!"

She laughed, the musical sound echoing in the room pleasantly. He pressed her against him, the fabrics of her dress a soft, whispering pressure on him.

"I could snatch you. Make you my prisoner, to wait in my cabin for my biddings…"

Her eyes gleamed.

"Fiddle-dee-dee, won't you love that, me being your prisoner."

"Oh, don't tempt me that much."

She put a finger on her chin as a jest, her lips stretched mischievously.

"But I'll think… With a little bit of time I could manage to take the keys from you and run away…"

"Oh, you think you could escape me?"

"I think I could try. But then… I'll be bored so!"

He roared in laughter. "So you'll run back to me just because you're bored? That's pleasant to hear."

She batted her lashes. "Didn't you want the truth?"

"Oh, no, that's not the truth. Not even the half of it. You would run back to me because you love me."

She pouted, her hands settling between them.

"It's not funny when you can see the truth that clearly."

"The truth isn't meant to be funny."

"And why ever not? If it was, then it'd be easier to share it!"

"There are things you can't laugh at."

Yet she did, and through her laughter, she told him she loved him, her eyes dancing, telling him 'and you, why can't you?'

Too soon, darling, he thought with amusement as he took her hands in his, caressing her mount of Venus with his thumb before kissing it.

"Are you laughing at yourself, my dear?"

"A bit, maybe. But mostly at you."

"At me. I didn't know I was doing anything to be laughed at."

"It's in your face," She said simply.

Swiftly, she stole a kiss from his lips, then escaped his embrace.

He chuckled.

He watched her getting closer to the curtains, her fingers gripping the fabric firmly. She ranted a little about it, as if it held any interest, and he went closer, pressing his chest to her back. Silently, he put his hands on her shoulders. She froze, then looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Rhett… What could lead people to force others to do something unbearable?"

He paused.

"That's a difficult question you ask. I have my own idea. But I think you can find your own. Why did you hire convicts, Scarlett?"

"Convicts are no children. And I never asked them to…"

"No, they aren't," He shook his head softly."Yet they were mistreated all the same, and you did not ask yourself if they could die in their post, did you?"

She faltered a little.

"No. I guess I did not. I was… so afraid to lose it all," In a moment of insight, it seemed clearer. "Maybe I did not want to see it. Maybe I wanted to believe it'll be alright."

"When we are afraid, it can be almost impossible to see that others are suffering. It can also be impossible to consider them as a person even."

She nodded.

"I did not consider them as persons. I… could not. They deserved it, I believed. They were convicts. They had done terrible things. I could not even understand your remarks, Ashley's, or even Archie's."

Sighing, she leaned back.

"Oh, Rhett…" She asked, her eyes bright with anguish. "Am I a bad person?"

Oh, no… He wanted to say. You are an extraordinary woman. My woman. And I see now I hadn't helped you that much to realize that. Did not help you that much to improve.

But no. It was no use to blame himself like that. It would not help her.

Damn it, Rhett Butler, he thought. You know what you should do. But then why is it so difficult to do so?

He took her gently in his arms, putting her head on his chest. The beats of his heart were slow, and he felt appeased by her proximity. His hand caressed her hair, gathered in a nest that he wanted to take off to comb the locks with his fingers.

"A bad person would never question themselves like that. They would not care. No. You're not a totally good person either, and I am not. The things we do, it's because it helps us in a way. Yet, we're not bad either."

"Then how to distinguish the good people from the bad?"

"Feelings. Care. I think you know, I tend to believe there are no truly good people, no truly bad people. Only circumstances. And yet, if I had to define who bad people could be… I'd say they are people without feeling, who don't care about anything but themselves."

"Yesterday, I went to the orphanage. And it's strange. The first time, I thought everyone but the children was terrible, cruel. Monsters. I was determined to do anything in my power to change it, and in time to make them pay. Yet, there was also this feeling of powerlessness. What could I do? Had I really the power to change all of this? Was I ready for the consequences? And then… there was one of the nuns. She thanked me. That was my first doubt…"

"You realized they were not all monsters."

"Yes. But I decided not to think of it. There was Wade, with me, telling me I had to do something."

"You wanted to make him proud."

"I did. And I felt I was right to do so. But yesterday… I saw them care. I saw them try to help, to comfort the children."

He sighed and kissed her hair.

"Maybe they do. Maybe they don't."

She raised bewildered eyes on him.

"What do you mean?"

"Hadn't you thought that maybe they wanted you to see this?"

"You mean they pretended?"

"Maybe."

"That's terrible."

"Indeed," He nodded. "I'm not saying it's not genuine. But I do believe you want to believe it is, that the situation is not that difficult."

"And why would I want that?" She sneered. "I'm sure you have your own idea about it."

"Oh, Scarlett. Don't be so defensive. I'm not blaming you. That's a burden you were not prepared to bear, and I'm sure it made you think of many things you wanted to forget," He pressed her harder against him. "I know what it is, to want to run away from a difficult situation."

She snorted. "Of course you do."

She froze. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "No. Don't be. You're right. I know my fault."

She faltered.

"Maybe it is. Maybe I want to think that it's not that bad. But it does not work. I still think we have to create that other orphanage."

"No. Because you see there's a need for it to change."

She hummed, and he felt her nose on his neck, her face moving until her lips pressed on him, stretched on a smile.

"So, this is how it should have been? You comforting me over my problems?"

"Us supporting one another through the difficulties. And it's not only your problems. That's how it should have been."

That's how it will be, he thought.

"It's actually quite nice."

"It is."

"And you?" She said, raising her head. "Am I allowed to know your thoughts and comfort you as well in this relationship?"

He smiled. You already do, he thought.

"Of course," He said. "Though at that moment, I don't see for what matter you'd have to comfort me."

She smiled.

"I love you."

A fierce emotion came to him. His embrace tightened, but his throat ran dry.

She blinked. Was it a hurt expression in her beloved face?

"Can't you say it just to pretend?"

Oh, he could do so much more than pretend.

"I love you, Scarlett."

More than I ever loved anyone. More than anything, more even than himself.

An idea came to him, that she knew already this and wanted him to admit it to her on his knees. He felt the fear rushing to him like blood in his veins, an automatic answer he could not shake off easily.

"I believe we understand one another more than we say we do," He finally said.

She looked back at him expectantly.

"I hope we do," She examined him closely, a hint of apprehension in her eyes, then cleared her throat. "Well, for the orphanage, it's better that we do."

His shoulders relaxed, but he cursed himself for it.

She turned away, and he felt her absence from his arms keenly.

"Thank you, Rhett."

"You don't have to thank me."

He took a step forward and held his hand towards her, hoping she would see how much he cared in his eyes.

"Come on, Scarlett. Let's come back to the house."

She bit her lips. He did not call it home. Yet, at his gesture, she let out a little smile and answered accordingly.

He squeezed her hand and led them back to Peachtree Street.

When they came back, Prissy was shrieking at the children, complaining that the masters would be coming and would not be happy about them "runnin aroun' like dat and tearin up their clothes". Another servant tried to appease her, but without success.

"Oh, Wade Hampton, you're in a sorry state!" Scarlett cried, dismayed as she saw them. "And you, Ella!"

A sorry state, indeed. Wade had more than a foot of mud on his pants, and his shirt was ripped on the right side. Ella was half-covered in filth, and Billy… Well, it was difficult to see the difference between his clothes and his body with that the thickness of it.

Only Caroline was immaculate, certainly because she had only been the witness of it.

Certainly, Ella had been pushed in a puddle, and the boy had jumped to protect her, if Rhett had to take a guess.

The little girl lowered her head, her foot twisting a little on the floor.

"Sorry, mama… But it's Wade that began."

"You little liar!"

Scarlett's foot stomped on the floor impatiently.

"Well, Billy, Caroline," Rhett intervened, amused. "Certainly you have seen something."

Immediately, Billy answered.

"Mister Wade did this."

Yet, Caroline bit her lip, upset.

Scarlett crossed her arms, frowning. Rhett chuckled, putting his hands on her shoulders who jumped a little at his touch.

"Oh, come on, dear, it's alright. They're children. They just played a little roughly."

"A little _too_ roughly," She scowled, before she took notice of the afraid expression on Prissy's face. Her eyes softened. "You'll help Prissy to clean it and repair it. All of you!"

"But…" Wade protested.

"No but. I won't have any children of mine not knowing the cost of what they have on their backs. Now, go clean yourself. You're really in a sorry state!"

Wade tried to look at Rhett for support, but the man shrugged, encouraging him to go with the other. He huffed, his little cheeks puffing a little, but followed nonetheless.

Finally, Scarlett turned towards her husband, her eyes flaring.

"Have you anything to say about it?"

"No. I agree…"

Her brows almost raised to the roots of her hair. She faltered like a crushed balloon.

"You… agree?"

He laughed at her bewildered expression. "I do not always disagree with you, my dear. I can see when children need discipline, and what you suggested was actually quite adequate."

"Oh."

"Missus," Prissy cleared her throat, her voice still a little trembling. "A package came for you. From the tailor."

At this, her eyes brightened, her steps light as she went closer to said package. There was excitement in these emeralds, and he felt curiosity at the content of it. Not to mention her hands shook a little.

"What is that, my dear?"

"A surprise," She answered in a sing-song voice, before shoving him lightly with her hip when he tried to approach.

"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?" He relented.

"I can only say it's for the ball," She said with the same tone.

To his amusement, her feet were tapping on the floor almost like for a dance. His gaze went up, traced the pattern on her lilac dress with pleasure.

Abruptly, she turned towards him.

"Oh, Rhett, I so want to dance!"

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Can't you wait tomorrow for this?"

She squirmed under his bewildered stare, feeling like a little girl. He chuckled and took a step forward, leaning toward her frame. His hand twitched with the need to touch her, but unfortunately he had no excuse to do so. Her bun in that nest was too perfectly done, not even leaving any erring strand.

"Your eyes are gleaming prettily, my dear. What twisted plan do you have in mind?"

"Rhett… You've always been an adventurer, haven't you?"

He looked at her amusedly.

"That's an intriguing beginning for a demand. Continue, I'm all ears."

A contagious smile came to her face, and it spread to his.

"Rhett…"

"Scarlett…"

"I've heard there's an Irish pub…"

Rhett's brow went up.

"An Irish pub?"

"Don't be a snob, Rhett!" She said with fondness. "I've heard there's good music!"

She took a step closer, her eyes pleading.

"Oh, Rhett, are you going to say yes?"

His smile widened.

"You, dancing a jig on the table like a true Irishwoman? I'd be a fool not to want to see that!"

"How you do run on, husband… Who said anything about dancing on tables? Really, that's a ludicrous idea."

"Well, aren't you the one who talked about an adventure? Or are you becoming fraidy-cat?"

At this, her temper flared.

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett Butler! I'll dance so hard, I'm sure I will need three pairs of shoes before the night ends!"

"Believe me, my dear, when you'll come to that number, you'll see me joining you for a last dance."

She grinned, and he felt her excitement wash over him like a wave.

"Prissy!" He called. "Tell the children not to wait for us. Their mother and I will tell them goodnight in some minutes. We'll be leaving for the night."

That being said, they went on their own way, he to his chambers, she to hers.

He changed, putting more comfortable clothes, then grinned. From one of his drawers, he took two masks and slipped them in his pocket.

It intrigued him when she entered the chamber of little Billy, but he did not enquire. He would have the answer in time, he knew. There was something she wanted of the boy, and he could see it had to do with Ella's incident. And her little rant from yesterday confirmed it.

Then, she went to see Wade and Ella as they waited on them, already in their nightclothes.

He looked at her as she explained them.

"But mama, why do we have to go?" Little Ella asked, upset. "Are we being punished?"

"Oh no, sweet-heart..."

"It's your fault," Wade scolded. "You shouldn't have followed that stranger."

Ella was on the point of crying.

Frowning, Rhett intervened. "Not that, little man. Your mother is right. You'll be better at Tara. There are many things happening in Atlanta, and it'd be better if you were away from some time. We'll join you soon."

Scarlett looked at him, startled, then smiled gratefully. His heart skipped a beat, but he held on.

"But…" Wade asked, hesitant. "What about Caroline?"

"And Billy?" Ella added, tears at the corners of her eyes.

Scarlett sighed, pondering it. Rhett joined her, putting his hand on her in support.

"They'll join you. Then you will be able to continue all your little games. Isn't it right?"

His wife's mouth pursed a little, but it soon transformed on a grin. "More gently, though. And while still helping Prissy to fix your clothes."

They finally accepted that fate with resignation, and Rhett was able to lead Scarlett outside.

With a grin, he handed them the mask, and put his own. It covered only half of the face, leaving the mouth out.

She laughed.

"You look funny like that!"

"Do you remember the first time we used it?"

"Of course I do!" She exclaimed as she put it on, her eyes twinkling pleasantly, enlightened by the pattern. "We were invited to a masquerade ball in New-Orleans."

"You were sulking because you did not like the song."

"I did not know how to dance this one!" She protested. "It was too… slow. With a strange rhythm, like I'd never heard before!"

"That's because you lacked imagination, but no energy, my dear."

"Well, now, I have both, so you better be prepared, Rhett Butler!"

And from the look on her face, she was prepared to face the challenge. With a grin, he led her to the pub, curious to see her in action.

They shared a light supper of baked potatoes and smoked pork on the common tables, and soon enough people were drawn to them and he took pleasure in that. They were creatures able to jump from one world to another with ease, both of them survivors, both of them with a desire of life too big for their own body. Two chameleons, that yet were not satisfied in the world they lived in.

Then, when the music began and the plates were taken away, he dared her to do what she had suggested to him. He delighted in her offended expression, as if he had doubted her boldness. Yet, it was him that helped her to climb the table.

She raised her skirt lightly with one hand, letting her little feet be shown, daring and immaculate in these delicate black slippers. The other hand stayed on her hip, and she held her head high, defiant to the world.

She was magnificent.

The music rang in the air, swift and joyful, and her feet followed the rhythm, so light it seemed it barely touched the floor.

Around them, some men, attracted by the spectacle, cheered and tapped to encourage her. Some women joined her, but he only saw her, smiling at him cheekily. He laughed at her, and when one of the heels broke, she put it beside him like a trophy, while he handed her others.

"One," She cheered.

And she continued, the table trembling under her feet.

"That woman…" A dark-haired man with brown eyes exclaimed. "She's got spunk! It's like she's got fire in her feet!"

"That's my woman," Rhett commented firmly.

But that threat only got him a laugh and a pat on the shoulder. He joined in it.

"You're a lucky lad."

"That, I am," He said quietly.

"Two!" He heard, before seeing another pair joining the first.

He grinned at her and applauded her, intoxicated with her smile, her moves, her charms.

"And… three!" She cried, this time, the pair of shoes escaping her hands in her eagerness. "Oh!"

She giggled as Rhett caught it, put it down and took off his jacket, joining her. He felt ageless, almost immortal with her by his side.

He tapped his feet on the table from right to left, twisted them, while he took off his hat with both his hand and put it to one side of his chest, then the other. Suddenly, he stopped and put it back on his head with a wink in Scarlett's direction. He continued, almost as if he was walking in place with the rhythm as his guide, his arms swinging forward, then backward.

At his side, Scarlett laughed.

"What's this dance, Rhett?" She cried. "It's ridiculous!"

"Yet, you follow the same steps, my dear!"

And indeed, she did. He pressed her against him and swung with her, their feet raising, almost crossing with their little kicks before tapping the table, making their own music. He twirled her and pressed her back to him. They turned a little, before he released her, twisting his feet a little more, before daring her to do the same. They took turns, trying to see how long it could go, before she turned and turned, a big smile on her face.

"Oh, I can't stop!"

With one cry, she joyfully tripped and he caught her by the waist, one of her legs raised higher than what was totally proper.

Around them came applauds and cheers as they looked at each other, exhilarated.

He felt so alive. This was the life they were meant to have, he thought. Dancing, laughing. Sharing adventures, little and big. Together.

He bowed with his hat held low and she curtsied.

The excitement did not leave them when they went out of the pub, the laughs and talks behind them, and a new song beginning.

"Ah… I told you I would need more than three shoes," She said with a dazzled pride.

"Of course, you did, my dear, and I never doubted you," He drawled pleasantly. "But now you're going to hurt your feet if you continue. And you won't be able to dance tomorrow."

"God's nightgown, Rhett! My feet are fine, thank you! They'll be able to keep up tomor- Oh!"

She cried when he put his arm under her knees, efficiently sweeping her off her feet. She gripped the fabric of his jacket and when he began to walk with her in his arms, she tapped him repeatedly, not even caring to hide the smile on her face.

"What are you doing, you great king of cads?!"

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm snatching you."

"Fiddle-dee-dee! To our house? That's a strange snatching."

He roared in laughter at this.

The street was pleasantly animated, the lights barely wavering under the soft breeze. No one questioned their masks. They were two strangers in the night like others, hoping to have a little enjoyment before the sunrise.

She hummed, setting herself more comfortably in his arms.

"I like going on adventures with you."

Could she feel his heart beating? Oh, the tender frisson with the idea that she did!

"The night is beautiful, Rhett. Look at all these stars!"

She pointed at them eagerly, and he chuckled at her expression, almost childlike.

"Yet… I seem to remember the stars are prettier at Tara…" She said softly.

"They're the same stars," Rhett commented.

"Maybe," She pondered the question. "Yet…"

She looked at him, then smiled. "No, you're right. They're the same."

As they came to the house, then to the stairs, he put her down, and hesitantly, they climbed silently. His hands were shoved on his pockets as he tried to conceal his nervousness.

Would she invite him in, this time? Could her sideways glances mean she was as nervous as he was?

He remembered that time, after that Night, when he had felt full of anxious energy, wanting to hope, but afraid to do so. He had been ashamed then, and yet defiant. His mind was filled with contradictory thoughts, raising her as either the Delilah to his Samson or the sweet Penelope, ready to welcome her husband back into her arms.

Once in front of her door, as she opened it, she turned towards him, hesitant. He saw her biting her lower lip.

"Rhett… I thought…"

"Yes?"

"As we agreed to pretend…" Her hands fidgeted on her mantle, before she bravely raised her head to him. "Why do you sleep…?"

"Oh…" He affected an air of surprise, but his eyes twinkled. "Were you expecting me to go to your bed?"

She blinked.

"Well… isn't it how you would have wanted to be?"

"How I would have wanted to be is you wanting me to be there."

As if offended, she took a step forward, her mouth pursing.

"Of course I want it!"

He looked down, amused, a triumphant smirk drawn on his lips.

"I told you you would ask me…"

"Oooh! You're insufferable!" She scowled. "I'm not asking you to… make love to me."

Though her eyes gleamed at the idea.

"Oh? That's disappointing."

She huffed and turned away from him, visibly angry, took off her gown and mask and climbed onto the bed, her back still on him. He bit the inside of his mouth, cursing himself. He felt stuck in place, on the doorway when he so terribly wanted to be in.

"So I guess I'm not welcome at the sanctuary, then…"

"Well, if you act like a hound…"

Yet, at her side, Scarlett was refraining herself from smiling, her eyes glinting in anticipation.

"What are you waiting for?" She chided. "The bed is cold."

He blinked, then chuckled. He took off his pants and shirt, his mouth twitching as he saw her head slightly moving, as if she was tempted to look, but did not dare. Looking at her back, he blew the candle on her nightstand and slipped into the bed, savoring the crisp freshness of the sheet on his skin, and the flowery scent of her hair on the pillow.

He gathered her against him, his nose buried in the dark and soft luxury, a feeling of belonging in his heart.

In hers echoed the same as she fell asleep, warm and safe in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this, folk, is how Charlestone was created.
> 
> Just kidding. Charlestone was created in the 1920s. But somehow, the image of Clark Gable dancing it came to my mind and I couldn't let go of it. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> PS: GWTW and the other litterary works mentioned still aren't mine though.


	25. Chapter 25

Scarlett waited patiently as the boy continued to write, hesitating on words. He barely knew how to do it, and she had to help him through it, refraining from snapping with irritation at the child, especially when she had seen he was leaving marks on the sumptuous rosewood desk she had put in that room. Though at least, she felt glad at herself not to have made the same mistake for the arrangements of the future orphanage.

It had taken time even to persuade him, and an old part of her was protesting that he was meanly taking pleasure at making her suffer personally. Or that God was doing so, for she was adding her own part to the truth to be sure the accused stayed where it should be: under lock and key, far from her family.

When it was all done, she gathered the pieces of paper and reread it another time. Pansy had told her not to make too much of it, for it was susceptible to be invalidated if the picture seemed too caricatural, too much. This had made it even harder, for she had been terribly tempted to add other accusations through the boy's pen.

She sighed, then turned toward the child, who was still gripping the sheets, eyes downcast in deep reflection.

"Thank you, Billy."

"This will protect her ?"

"Yes, it will."

She examined him. All cleaned up, he seemed almost decent if there wasn't this darkness in his brown eyes that was disturbing. He had jet-black hair that shined almost blue and a thin mouth that seemed used to be shut. His skin was sun-tanned, and she wondered how much time he must have taken wandered in the streets when he should have been in the orphanage.

But then she could not blame him. He should have been safe here. He hadn't.

She paused.

"You like Ella, don't you?"

"She's the only one that'd been truly nice with me…" He answered softly. "With you, Ma'am."

"You don't truly believe the last part, do you?" She chuckled when he blushed. "It's alright. The important part is that you like her. I need you to do something for me. Well, for her."

"Anything!"

My, he _really_ likes her, she thought with dismay when she saw the fierceness in his eyes.

She touched his hand, her eyes piercing on him.

"She has a heart of gold, and she trusts easily. Watch over her. Be with her always. Protect her, when others can't."

"Oh," He nodded in understanding. "I'll do it! I swear I'll do it!"

"Thank you."

Then, she'd be sure he would stay close, in case she had need of him.

She took back her hand and raised. Unaware to her, the light entered in the otherwise dark room after a moment of grey rain, and it gave her a halo that gave the boy goosebumps. She seemed at the moment like an angel he was about to lose, and uncertainty rose in his heart. He called her back as she was at the door.

"Ma'am…"

She turned, putting a sweet smile on her lips.

"Yes, Billy?"

His expression was stubborn, with a mix of fear and awe.

"You're nice too… For a big person. But like others, you will leave, won't you? I'll go back. I always go back there."

"Is that why you don't feel at ease here, do you?" She stopped. "You'll not go back there. That, I promise you."

"How can you be so sure?" Billy shook his head. "They'll kill you. I know they will. They always do. And then they'll send me back, me and Caroline."

"I'll be protected. I'll come back. And you'll not be sent back there."

He did not quite believe her. She sighed. So much for the vote of confidence. Even with children, it did not seem easy to get.

"Come downstairs when you feel like it," She said, seeing she could not reassure him. "There'd be some croissants, I believe."

The boy cocked his head, confused.

She chuckled at his ignorance. "It's a fluffy pastry. You'll like it, you'll see."

She closed the door and sighed. This was done at least. She only had to send it when the time came. Quietly, she went to the study and put it in her chest. It was useful, after all. She did not quite know what to do with the money, but she would see it later.

When she raised, she felt disappointed by the lack of life in the study, when other nights, it had been so full of it, with the children's laughs and questions, Rhett's little comments, their presence at her side like the sign that happiness could be possible. They had made it a refuge, almost a home. Last time she had told the story, it was in her room, maybe. But this place had something important in it she could not quite grasp now.

She smiled softly. The night had been wonderful. Oh, the joy to have him by her side, his strong body so close, and his arms around her! She had thought she would cry with all the emotions in her, the excitement screaming through so many pores of her skin.

She had woken up once and observed his beloved face until he opened his eyes and asked her if she had had any nightmare. She said no. And indeed, how could she have one, now? She knew what she wanted. She wasn't hiding it now. He was the one that had made the nightmare go away.

When finally the morning came, he wasn't by her side, being an earlier riser than she was, and she had nestled in their warmth, wanting to stay comfortably nestled in the mix of their scents combined, so promising.

And tonight, he would not resist her, she thought. He wouldn't, with the dress she bought.

With that thought, she wanted to see him now, to be in his arms while he would whisper tenderly in her ear.

She wandered through the house, wondering where they could all have been, before finally inspecting the garden.

There they were, Caroline behind Wade and Ella clasping eagerly her hands, her feet balancing her little frame with enthusiasm. And in front of them, Rhett was crouching toward a bush, his hands clasped over something she could not yet see.

She went closer.

"That's a girl, sweet Ella," She heard him say. "A little she-devil that could fit in your pocket."

A cat. He had found a cat. On the day when the children were leaving. Well, more surprising things had happened, Scarlett thought.

Though she had the suspicion he had bought it, and was now putting on a show not only to surprise the children, but also to prevent her from refusing it.

"Oh, mama, she's got our eyes!" Ella cried in delight, turning towards her mother when she noticed her. "Oh, mama! May we keep her? May I? I'm sure she'd like Tara!"

Scarlett pursed her lips.

"I'm not sure… It may have some fleas."

Rhett laughed. "Well, no, my dear. She seems quite the proper lady."

She pouted, wanting so much to stick her tongue at him, though not wanting to be a bad model in front of the children.

"Please…" Ella relented, her mouth pouting. "It's a lady, Uncle Rhett said! She'd be nice!"

Scarlett wasn't about to let herself waver like that, especially when she could see Rhett petting it with an obnoxious smile, daring her to do so. Yet, when Wade joined, she felt she was being outnumbered and she had to cede. Irritated with her decisions, she urged the children to go back to the house and help with the packing. Rhett stayed, irritating as always.

"What, my dear, are you afraid of a little kitten?" He lightly taunted her.

She huffed and sashayed towards the two beasts, glaring at them, little and big. It was a tiny thing, really, almost a little ball of black furs with green eyes glinting at her, and when she was close enough, it hissed. She took a step back, narrowed her eyes, her mouth pursing a little more.

"I'm not sure she likes me."

"And you're not sure you like her either, I believe. Cats tend to be very territorial and feel it when there's a rivalry."

She rolled her eyes.

"Why, rivalry? Fiddle-dee-dee, rivalry with a cat."

His eyes twinkled.

"Oh, so you feel attacked?"

Her mouth twitched.

"Beware, husband, or I might scratch you."

He chuckled. She went closer, eyeing suspiciously the little intruder.

"She likes you very much." She commented, her mouth twisting in dismay. "She's purring quite loudly!"

"She seems to," He examined it closely. "She has beautiful eyes."

She crossed her arms, pouting. Oh, how he was ridiculous, with this thing!

"Fiddle-dee-dee, they're like mine!"

He looked at her and shook his head in amusement.

"Oh, Scarlett. You're incredible!"

"That, I am!" She exclaimed with pride, before cocking her head on one side, suddenly suspicious. "But why the sudden compliment, husband?"

It only made him laugh harder. He kissed the head of the bewildered kitten, his eyes fixed on her.

"Oh, you!" She stomped her foot. "You're mocking me and I don't like it."

"I'm not mocking you, my dear," He replied, his brow twitching in amusement. "At least… just a little. But it's still… fondly."

She pursed her lips and turned away with a huff, but he caught her by the waist and pressed her against his body. He kissed her, the surprise and the tenderness of it leaving her breathless. He took advantage of her opened mouth, teasing with his tongue the tip of hers until she melted and gripped his collar. It ended too soon for her. She wanted to hold on to the moment a bit longer. He caressed her chin with his thumb and she shivered at the softness in his eyes.

"Very fondly," He said with a hoarse voice.

Complaining, the cat jumped from him, its claws leaving an angry mark that made Rhett hiss. Scarlett grinned innocently.

"See. Now you've been scratched."

She kissed his cheek fondly then walked away. In front of her, the cat had entered the house, and Ella was joyfully trying to catch it.

"Cruel woman, leaving her poor husband bleeding to death."

"How you do run on," She smiled with dimples, waving at him. "I was just asking myself why you weren't following so I might clean it properly… Though I've heard I wasn't very soothing. Are you afraid I might scratch you harder?"

"Can't be worse than now."

She laughed, and it rang like clear, melodic clicks of crystal. She took his hand and led him to the kitchen, asking some servants to give her some clean cloth and water, and then proceeded to clean the little scratch. She could feel his eyes on her and it made her shiver with the implications. When it was done, she kissed it, a smile on her lips.

"So tender," He whispered, caressing her cheek. "You surprise me, my dear."

Her lashes unwittingly fluttered. "Well, is it? Surprising, I mean."

He did not answer. Instead, she felt his lips on her forehead, and she closed her eyes, savoring the feeling.

They were sadly interrupted by Prissy's call for dinner, and Scarlett eagerly talked to the children, remembering they would be leaving in a few hours. She felt she wanted to know everything, every thought, just to hold on the moment.

Yet, the moment came, and when they went to the station and settled the children in the wagon, she whispered urgently to Rhett, her grip on his hand a little stronger than it should be.

"Where are your men, Rhett?"

He smirked, then whispered to her ear.

"Don't stare. The man with the newspaper. The other with the rounded hat. And the one with the stick."

She looked, then lifted an eyebrow at him.

"I see you've followed my wish quite efficiently."

"I do my best."

She nodded, then came to see the children.

"Come see us soon for the story, mama!" Ella cried with the cat on her new, mewling in protest. "I want to know what happens to Solene!"

"Don't ask her just for the story, dummy," Wade chided, before turning to Scarlett with bright eyes. "I hope to see you soon, Mother."

He was trying so hard to be brave that it broke her heart.

She gathered them in her arms.

"Take care of one another, my darlings. I love you so much. We'll see you soon, indeed. Very soon."

She closed her eyes through the embrace, preventing herself to cry. Soon, soon, her heart chanted.

Then, after another goodbye, she turned toward the Scottish giant that was sitting at their side, next to Prissy, while they began to chatter about what they were about to do in Tara, before being distracted by Rhett making his own goodbye.

"Patrick… Take great care of them."

There was a strange glint in his eyes.

"Lassie…"

"If there's any problem that my husband's men don't see, I trust you'll do the right choice to protect them."

He paused, looking at her.

"And who is going to protect you?"

"My husband, of course. And my friends."

He chuckled.

"And me, what am I?"

"Why, you are my friend too, Patrick," She exclaimed. "Though it seems still quite strange to me."

The man smirked, though his eyes were bright.

"To me too. You're quite a strange woman. Take great care, lassie."

She nodded and smiled, and somehow, she felt what she had said had been true, actually. An unlikely friend and ally, but somehow she felt sure of his loyalty. He would come for her if she needed help. He had a debt to pay, after all.

Not that she truly needed him. She had Rhett. And she had herself. She knew that whatever would come to her, she would survive it.

Yet, there was something he seemed to try to tell her, and she could not quite understand it.

With one last sigh, she left the wagon and joined Rhett who was waiting for her on the quay.

"What did you say to him?" He asked when she pressed herself against him, linking his arm with hers.

She hummed, pressing herself harder.

"To take care of the children. That's what I hired him for, remember?"

She looked at the train, faltering.

"This is not the first time they take the train, darling," She heard Rhett say softly.

"Yet, it's the first…" _since I've finally realized how much I loved them._

She did not say the rest, but he understood. He put an arm around her shoulders.

"It's alright, Scarlett. They'll be alright."

Yet, she felt like a deep warning in her heart that made her want to cry. She put her arms around Rhett and nestled her head on his chest. There, she could feel the rhythm of his heart, soothing like the pressure of his hands on her back.

She did not see the train leaving, too focused. She heard it. Then she let herself be led home by Rhett, who kissed her hair in support.

Yet, he also couldn't stay. Many things to settle, he said, and she felt all alone in that house now empty of his and her children's voice, and still very much lacking the furniture that previously filled it.

That's when she realized some things.

Some of her things were missing. But more important, most of _his_ things were missing.

Scarlett felt doubt in her heart, a deep fear she could not shake off.

Her fists clenched. No. He loved her. She had to believe he did.

Yet, loving her had never prevented him from leaving her.

She closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts.

No matter what, she'd stay strong. For herself, for the children. She had survived many things. She'd know how to handle that storm. He had left before, yes. But he'd come back. He always had. He had promised her.

And even if he did not, she'd live still, a traitorous part of her mind sneakily added.

She shook her head. She did not want to think about it. And then, he had said they would join the children at Tara.

There wasn't a lie on his face, was there? At the moment she had felt so sure, but now…

Oh, great balls of fire, she thought, irritated with herself.

She went to his room, unquietness settling in her belly. The door opened with a hiss and she entered with unsure steps. The bed had been undone, the sheets taken away, leaving only the mattress. Otherwise, it was spotless. Too spotless. There were no books on the shelves, no sign of handkerchief, no paper lingering on the desk or on the nightstand. Nothing to make it the room of Rhett Butler, her formidable husband.

She waited till he came back, lingering a bit in the library to wander through the books he had suggested her, blushing terribly at the improper one though still turning the pages with a wicked curiosity. Her mind stayed with such images, and somehow transformed them to make it all about Rhett, and she felt herself shivering all over. It made her remember the way he had touched her, just yesterday afternoon, and how good it had felt... Then, as she couldn't bear the hotness without the presence that was inspiring it, she looked at the different partitions, determined to make herself the queen of the party. She had to find something new, she decided. Something that would make her stand up among the others, to make Rhett see how much she loved him. She hummed quietly, then stopped at one.

There was her name on the paper, written with Rhett's neat handwriting.

'Greensleeves'. Oh, yes, she knew that song. An old one, certainly, and different from those new ones which mostly talked about the war and other dreadful subjects. But then why did her husband…

Oh, she thought, reading the lyrics, and the few modifications he had made, as if to fit their story. It had certainly been written during the first year of their marriage, she thought, because it listed every little gift he had bought to her.

She frowned, her lip stinging from her upset bite.

She'd prove him wrong, she thought. He'd see it would not be like that. Not anymore. She'd give him the original song, and he would see how different it was.

She made herself practice, then finally waited for his return in the supper-room.

Dinner was eaten quietly, for she did not feel like talking, and he felt her unquietness, his gaze barely leaving her. When it was done, he went to her side and surprised her with a gift.

Astonished, she looked at the dark blue box and opened it eagerly, before faltering a little.

It was the necklace from Godey's Magazine.

It was beautiful. It was expansive.

And in her eyes it looked like a farewell gift. She could see the big rhinestone-encrusted pendant with the emerald cabochon glaring up at her in the middle of three strands of creamy-colored pearls. She touched it quietly, the stones hard and cold under her fingers. She raised bright questioning eyes at him.

"Why are you offering it to me, Rhett?"

His eyes gleamed.

"Didn't you say you wanted it?"

"As a prize for our bet."

"Well, let's that be my advance for when you win it."

You've never paid in advance for a bet. You only did that when there was something you wanted from me. What do you want, this time?

She bit her lip.

"Aren't you pleased with it?"

"Oh. Yes, I am," She said, thinking quickly, then nodded. "Could you put it on me, please?"

He nodded, still surprised by her reaction.

She raised, waiting with anticipation. First came the sound of his steps behind her. Then the feeling of his nearness, of his warmth. Her skin trembled a little as she felt his fingers, surprisingly gracious and sensual as he lay the jewel on her throat, clasping it before resting her hands around her neck. She felt his lips on her hair, soft and brief like the clipping wings of a butterfly. The images that she had seen moments ago came to her, making her blush all over, and her mouth smile in a secretive way that made him ask her about it.

"Oh, just silly things," She replied, but the smile widened.

With his thumb under her chin, he made her look at him, and it felt like she could see what she was thinking about for his eyes darkened and he leaned toward her, until their foreheads touched. She closed her eyes, expectant, but the kiss did not come. At least not on the lips. Upset, she opened her eyes and glared at him, who was looking at her with teasing eyes.

He was daring her to kiss _him_. Yet, knowing that was what he wanted, she only kissed the end of his mustache, then escaped his embrace. She heard his laugh as she went downstairs.

She went to change, added some earbobs and put on her dress with excitement. For her hair, she put it simply, in a manner that was alike as to what she used to do when she was a young girl.

She couldn't wait to see Rhett's face.

It was the same pattern as that fateful day, at Twelve Oaks. Almost the same shape, yet fixed to fit the tastes of the day. The green of it flattered her eyes, and she knew she was beautiful in it, the memory of the girl she had been lingering for a moment before revealing the woman she had become. It was bold, at the limits of what could be considered properly decent. But it was her, and she felt good in it, unlike any other dress she could have chosen. She looked at herself once more in the mirror, then smiled. She could do it. She was Scarlett O'Hara Butler, and nothing, no one could resist her if she did not allow them to.

At the top of the stairs, she saw him before he noticed her. Handsome, strong, unchanging in his well-cut suit, the white, slightly ruffled shirt hinting at the hard muscles underneath. It made her feel it was a restrained panther she had married, and the idea of him getting loose took her breath away, almost making her feel like a little girl.

Yet, she was no little girl anymore, and she intended in making that man hers entirely.

And finally he turned towards her, his black eyes wandering on her figure in shock.

"Scarlett…?"

On his face was a surprised, then bland look, and a tension in his jaw she could see all too clear. He had put his hands clasped behind him, and she imagined now it was tight, the knuckles almost white.

Well, this was not quite the kind of reaction she had wanted to raise.

Carefully, she walked towards him with her heart on her sleeve.

"Let's rewrite history…" She said, meeting his gaze. "… even if just for tonight. You and me, at the beginning of the beginning. Together. Nothing to set us apart. No war. No word overheard. No false belief. No one. Take me back to the day we met."

His eyes glinted in understanding. The tension eased. He nodded, his mouth twitching.

"Are you going to throw something at me this time?"

She smiled cheekily.

"Only if you don't play nice."

"Oh, then I'll make sure to be on my worst behavior and that no object is at your disposal."

Confused, she cocked her head to one side.

"Oh, but then, what could I throw at you?"

He waggled his brows. "Yourself, of course."

She snorted.

"You're terrible."

"You like it."

She only hummed in answer.

He took her hands in his all properly, yet the sparks ran through her body all the same. He pressed it against his lips, and she felt herself shivering with pleasure.

"Scarlett…"

"Yes, Rhett?"

"You're beautiful," He said softly.

She felt the satisfaction fill her chest like a well-fed cat.

"Well, we do make a handsome couple, don't we?"

He chuckled, then led to the party, his eyes barely leaving her. She felt herself flushing with satisfaction at his undivided attention. They made their way to the National Hotel and were greeted by the hosts who did not seem to know how they should talk to them. Scarlett and Rhett grinned at them innocently, yet, when their eyes met, they shared an amused laugh.

Other guests were not that much better. Some did not hide their discontent. Others were extremely polite. Only René and Maybelle seemed actually a bit genuinely happy to see them. She offered them the same smile, then went on.

She froze, feeling other eyes on her. In front of her, Ashley was pale, in his eyes a feverish gleam like an accusation.

Damn it, she cursed to herself. The dress wasn't that much of a good idea after all.

She pursed her lips and frowned.

At her side, Rhett sent her a questioning glance and she smiled at him reassuringly. Yet, when he looked into the direction she had stared, his grip hardened on her.

They turned away, but the tension was still there, like a thick cloud that was following them.

She squeezed his hand, kissed it swiftly, and it relaxed. They went on.

The ball began with a little contest among the present ladies on the piano. Repeatedly, the tunes of "Dixie" and "When this cruel war is over" were played, and when it was her turn, Scarlett felt very satisfied with herself at having chosen something else entirely. She settled on the bench, breathing in and out deeply, then began.

_Alas my love you do me wrong_

_To cast me off discourteously;_

_And I have loved you oh so long_

_Delighting in your company._

_Greensleeves was my delight,_

_Greensleeves my heart of gold_

_Greensleeves was my heart of joy_

_And who but my lady Greensleeves._

_I have been ready at your hand_

_To grant whatever thou would'st crave;_

_I have waged both life and land_

_Your love and goodwill for to have._

Sing with me, her eyes were daring him, but he wouldn't rise to the bait. There was a fire in these black orbs and she got herself lost in it.

_Thy girdle of gold so red,_

_With pearls bedecked sumptuously,_

_The like no other lasses had,_

_And yet thou wouldest not love me._

Her fingers danced on the piano, and finally her eyes followed them when it was too much to bear.

_Greensleeves, now farewell, adieu !_

_God I pray to prosper thee,_

_For I am stil thy lover true_

_Come once againe, and love me !_

_Greensleeves was my delight,_

_Greensleeves my heart of gold_

_Greensleeves was my heart of joy_

_And who but my lady Greensleeves._

She hesitated on the tune, then, determinedly, looked right into the eyes of her husband. She had lied. She would modify the lyrics. She would not be let herself be presented like this.

Eyes widened as she continued, her soprano voice cracking a little at the first words, before getting stronger.

_Alas, my love, you do me wrong,_

_My heart is not something to pay_

_Mine is a love so deep and strong_

_It waits for things you yet won't say_

_Greensleeves is all a joy_

_Greensleeves is my hope for change_

_Greensleeves is a dream of gold_

_It's my heart telling you to stay…_

Then the last note rang in the room, and she was applauded. She looked around, surprised, then accepted Mrs. Meade's arm when the old woman offered it to her. Rhett was nowhere in sight. Scarlett tried to find him in the crowd, but Mrs. Meade diverted her attention.

"I'm not sure it was the lyrics, Scarlett dear…"

She smiled sheepishly, acting like the foolish girl she was not.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I must have forgotten."

"It's alright, dear." Mrs. Meade whispered compassionately. "You'll not be the only one who fails to fix a song that's already broken."

Scarlett scowled.

That old peahen knew nothing about her and Rhett. How could she dare…

But then she stopped, unwilling to ruin her efforts. And then, she had finally spotted Rhett. She joined him with eager strides, refraining from calling him loudly. Instead, when she was close enough, she put her hand on his, waiting until he would meet her eyes.

When he finally did, she held on her breath. It felt like he wanted to devour her.

And she did not mind, actually. She wanted it.

Silently, he handed her a glass and she took it gratefully. She was about to talk when suddenly Richard's voice interrupted her.

"Would you mind very much if I take the first dance with your delightful wife, old friend?"

Rhett blinked. "No, I don't."

She was led away, an unwilling actress on the one play she did not want to take part of.

"It was so good to hear a tune from Europe, finally," Richard said as it began. "Did you play it for me?"

Her smile froze.

"Well, of course."

"Say it," He urged her. "Tell me that you love me. I want to hear it."

"I… love you," Her eyes stayed demurely down, so she could not see the burning gaze he laid on her. So he couldn't see the lie in her eyes. She raised her head suddenly.

"I am loyal to the man I love," She said fiercely. "I'd die for him."

And it was true. He delighted in that, unaware she was talking of another man.

"Let's escape, then," He whispered in her ears.

Her eyes widened, bewildered.

"How? When?"

"Tonight. Meet me at my chambers. 125," As he twirled her, she felt something hard and long being slipped in her hand. A key. "We'll satisfy the needs of our bodies, then the needs of our hearts."

In your dreams, she thought. But then she remembered the testimonies and the paper-knife and she wanted to scream.

In another move, she put the key in her reticule and, seeing his insistence, she nodded, though she knew the only reason she would go to his room would be to finally find that damn paper-knife, that she had tried to find through the dance.

When finally it ended, she refrained the urge from taking her hand back.

Rhett took her hand immediately when she joined him, with a noticeable pressure as if to assure himself she was back to his side. Or maybe to remind her she was his, and his alone.

She smiled at him, content. "I love you."

His grip tightened on her. Her smile widened.

 _Oh, my jealous husband trapped in his own game_ , she thought fondly. _Let me show you how I love you. Let this be our moment, just you and I, like it should be._

"Dance with me," She said instead.

His dark orbs lightened like a well-polished onyx. And dance, they did, through this song and the next, eyes on each other as if nothing else mattered. It was soft. It was passionate. It was like a dream she did not want to end.

Nonetheless, it was stopped when some men called Rhett to join them through a game of poker, Lord Fenton being quite insistent about it, and overdoing the cheerfulness as he put his arms around her husband's shoulders.

Shrugging, Rhett turned towards her and kissed her knuckles, his eyes full of promises. She held on her breath, but let him go. He'll come back, she thought amusedly. He always did.

She tried to talk with the other women, some still eyeing her suspiciously. But, without her awareness of it, she was held as an ignorant victim by Mrs. Meade, and they tolerated her despite her earlier mistakes.

When she could not bear it anymore, she found a way to escape and go to the poker room.

She was not the only woman, thankfully, in the room, though some of them seemed to be easy ones, making the respectable ones look plain and awkward, almost lost in the tapestries. Scarlett quickly found her husband, a cigar on his lips, around one of the tables and put her hands on his shoulders. He genuinely smiled at her, though raised an eyebrow at her presence.

Richard frowned. She bit her lip. She needed to do something to appease his suspicions.

She kissed Rhett's cheek, looked at his cards, and formed a three with her fingers. Richard's eyes glinted. The frown eased.

She whispered to Rhett's ear that she was going to refresh herself a little more before the next dance. He nodded, then turned back to his game, focused.

And refresh herself, she did. It provided her with an excuse to slip away from it all, drap her shawl more closely around her shoulders, borrow a long cape with a hood from the pile of clothes left by the guests, and finally slip into Lord Fenton's chambers, taking care not to be noticed in the way.

So many things to do.

There was an open bottle of Champagne in his chambers, and she gleefully put drops of draught in it. Maybe a little more than she should have, but at the moment she did not really care to count. Satisfied with herself, she hummed and let her eyes wander on the great mahogany bed.

Yet, as she was about to turn to look through his things, the door opened, with Lord Richard Fenton leaning on the threshold, eyeing her with an appreciation that had an unrestrained strength in it. He closed behind him, his steps self-assured as he went closer to Scarlett.

"Are you lost, sweet sultana?" Richard whispered not so suggestively. "Or are you exactly where you are supposed to be?"

She had to refrain the urge from rolling her eyes. She examined him and decided.

"You're drunk, my lord," She said quietly, turning away and filling a glass with Champagne. Suddenly, she felt his arms around her and she turned with the drink. "Here. Take it."

He took it and gulped it all down.

"You know, thanks to you, I got quite an amount of money from your husband."

"Huh?" She examined slowly each item, touching it with the tip of her fingers, before freezing at something familiar. "What's this seal?"

He leaned toward her, a malicious smile on his face.

"Mine. Well, not my family's seal. Mine alone. I made it some years ago. The key?"

"Here," She gave it to him, but panic overcame her when she saw he was about to open her former jewelry box before her eyes.

Swiftly, she turned him back and kissed him.

His arms went around her, heavy and disturbing, and when she finally ended this misery, she felt him caress his cheek possessively. His sullen mouth was almost pouting.

"You looked like you were in love with him."

She was about to protest when he shushed her.

"Oh, I know, my angel, that you play the comedy because you're afraid. He forced you into this state. You were his creature for so long… But soon you'll be free of him."

She nodded.

"Yes. I'll be free." Of you.

Yet, she had to play the game. Until she got these damned proofs he kept with him.

She felt herself shaking.

Anyway, she found it easier to play when there was some truth in it, though it wasn't about the same things she was talking about.

"Oh, the burden, the burden, to pretend to love, when I don't! I can't bear it!" She cried. "But it'd be ruined if I don't!"

"Oh, God, I want to take you right now."

Richard kissed her, forcing her lips apart, and she prevented herself from gagging. She closed her eyes, imagining it was Rhett. Yet, he tasted of something minty and sharp she did not like and the illusion did not last. She felt cold all over. Certainly, the draught would work soon. Oh, why wasn't it over already?

He began kissing her throat, his hands slowly trying to take her necklace off, and there she could not take it. She pushed him violently, and he fell back to the bed.

She saw him look at her with a deep arousal. He was about to jump on her, when suddenly, his eyes rolled and he fell back, hitting his head at the foot of the bed.

Surprised, she looked at him for a moment, then went closer. He was still breathing. Silently, she took the bottle and hesitated, afraid by the turn in her mind. Her hand gripped it, and she sighed. Then her mouth twitched in a malicious smile. She dropped the rest of its content on him, enjoying the stains in his nice, well-tailored suit. She put the bottle in his hand, praying he would wake up thinking he had drunk himself to sleep. She left the cape in memory, a coquetry she wanted to laugh over.

Swiftly, she ran through the room, rummaged his things until finally she found testimonies and incriminating paper-knife, still covered with a brownish stain, with the 'RKB' glaring down at her. She put the papers to the fire and put the knife in her reticule.

Looking at the fire eating it entirely, she felt relief washing over her. At least, that threat was gone. For now.

When it was finally done, she left the room and wandered. The corridors were surprisingly silent, and she found herself innerved by this. She went down the stairs, her ears attentive, waiting for the echoes of the party. Yet, she did not want to go back just yet. She felt filthy, stained by a touch she had not wanted, and she feared Rhett would see that and doubt. Then, all her reassurances would be for nothing.

One of the reunion rooms was opened and the light drew her in. It was empty, but calm, and she looked through the furniture. Mahogany tables and comfortable chairs with red velvet cushions. A big, large oak wardrobe with deep carvings of two lovers in an embrace, the stars above them tiny holes in the wood, yet that did not quite show at first glance what was inside. There was the painting of a landscape, with a soil so red it made her think of Tara. Oh, Tara, she thought. I'll come back soon. I'll come back home.

Steps echoed nearer and nearer, and masculine voices too. People were coming.

"Oh, great balls of fire!" She cursed, before hiding herself in the wardrobe. She felt her heart beating at the intrusion, not to mention the furniture was filled with pottery and vases and she feared she might stomp on one and reveal her hiding spot. She looked through the little holes on the wood and waited.

The men gathered around the table. They were four, one dark-haired man with a long face and strong chin, one sandy-haired one with a mouth that seemed like it was used to pout, one grey-haired she did not quite see, and a chestnut-haired one with a scar near his mouth that made it seem like he was smiling.

"Where is Richard? He was supposed to be there."

"With one of these ladies, certainly. I've heard there was one in particular he had his eye on."

"Shall we begin without him?"

"These Europeans. So lazy, so untrustworthy," The dark-haired man scoffed. "Let's proceed. He'll catch up. After all, he's new to this thing."

These men were Scallawags, the same she had once invited to her parties, and who had gathered around Rhett so thickly when they saw him. She remembered asking him about it, only to have this answer 'mere business, my pet.'

She tried to remember their names, but she couldn't. So she memorized their faces. Their attitudes.

But mostly their hair.

"There they are. The plans of Tara and Twelve Oaks, and where the petroleum has been spotted. They cost me quite a lot of money, but they are worth it."

Scarlett's eyes widened. Oh, so they truly existed!

"Have you seen them yet?"

"No, I just got them. My source was difficult to contact."

"Who was it?" The sandy-haired man said pleasantly. "You never told me that, old boy."

The dark-haired one chuckled.

"Some former slave, thinking he could have its share. I shut him up this morning."

Laughs followed this admission.

Yet, there was one that wasn't really laughing quite as well.

"What are you going to do about Mrs. Butler? She made quite a mess with her things with the orphanage and Belle's house. That's not good for money. Not to mention there's been a strange paper this morning. I'm sure it's her."

Scarlett froze. She knew this one. His back was on her, but now she knew. It was Hugh Olsen.

Oh, that damned turncoat!

Then, the end of his talk came to her, and she smiled. Pansy's article had been published. Good.

"She's Rhett's wife. She's going to be more difficult to shut up. Yet, he's going to leave soon. I've heard all of his things are at the station. No, gentlemen, we'll just have to wait. First, we'll need to go to that plantation to see where the plans lead to."

They were going to attack Tara soon… And the children were in Tara!

She had to get out of there. At all cost.

A sharp, loud noise rang, akin to an explosion, loud murmurs echoing as far at the room, and heads turned.

"What's that noise?"

"Let's see it," The dark-haired man said calmly. "Randall, stay here."

And they went. She held her breath.

Said Randall, visibly the sandy-haired one, was conveniently in front of the wardrobe. He was about to look at the papers. She opened the wardrobe and threw a vase at his head, hoping it might hit its target.

And it did.

His body fell on the floor and she felt nothing but the dizzying sensation of a prey aware she was being watched and trying to find a way to escape its grip.

Silently, she left her spot and put the plans in her reticule. Then she went away, following the bewildered crowd that was waiting out of the room.

She took refuge near the buffet, the smell of roast chicken strangely innerving for her nose.

She took a glass and gulped it down, wanting to erase the disgusting taste on her tongue. She took another. Yet it did nothing to appease her beating heart.

"There you are!" She heard Rhett calling her. "I fear there had been a little explosion, with the hapless Ashley Wilkes having drunk a little too much for his sake. So many glasses shattered. This man should not have come if he couldn't take it."

She grinned sheepishly. She put it down and straightened herself, yet the deep unease was still there.

"Oh, so that's what it was. What a waste."

He stared at her, as if surprised.

"Scarlett? Are you alright?" He took a step forward, grazing the lobe of her ear with the tip of his fingers, making her hair raise in a delight that seemed even more intense with the hurry of her flight. "I think you've lost an earring."

She froze, feeling cold all over. Instinctually, she turned her head in the direction of the room.

"Oh, no!"

"Do you want me to help you find it?"

Rhett's huge dark hand was on her and, remembering the moments ago when she was in another's arms, she startled and put down her glass. It fell back and he frowned.

She wetted her lips, trying to regain her composure.

"No!" She protested hurriedly. "I mean, it's alright. I did not like these earrings anyway."

"That's strange," He looked at her intensely, before grazing her cheekbone with his thumb. "You're shaking."

 _Oh, please_ , she thought with distress. _Don't look at me like that. I love you and only you. I am your woman. Claim me. Take me into your arms. Make me forget. Please, please._

"I'm cold," She said, trying to control the emotion from her voice. The strangest thing was that she was not only filled with fear. The emotions in her were complex and, she felt, incompatible. And yet it was maybe what made them so strong. "Can we go home now? I don't feel so right."

She looked at him with hope in her eyes. Yet she could see the word "home" brought a strange expression on his face, before it disappeared and he examined her.

"So soon?" His brows lifted in surprise. "My, Scarlett, you look like a frightened cat! Your eyes…"

"Please, Rhett. It's our last night here…" She put a hand on his fist, her eyes pleading. In a belly she felt a slight burn, as if hot water had splattered her skin. The rest of her words came out hoarse. "And I… want to be with you."

He observed her, avidly as if he wanted to keep her face in memory, then nodded. His fist opened, and it shook like hers as their fingers intertwined, like some contagious feeling that was taking them both. Their arms linked and he nodded once again.

"Alright, honey. Let's escape this maddening crowd."

One hand was calmly holding hers, the other caressing it softly, and it appeased her considerably. She felt the cold leaving her little by little, but the confused feelings stayed, with a sudden giddiness entering the mix. She smiled widely, almost wanting to cry with relief.

Yes. Yes. Yes!

They did not even try to say goodbye to their hosts. It felt a bit like they were running away, with Rhett guiding her, and it seemed the idea came to them at the same time. A strange giggle left their mouths, like those of children that were trying to avoid a punishment after breaking rules. Eyebrows raised when they went past them, whispers about how queer it was, not only to see them having such an improper behavior (that wasn't that surprising at all), but for them to have any behavior at all _together_. Most shrugged, they never liked them anyway, but if they could disappear together, it could be better for the society. A little part, mainly old women, thought that fast piece of baggage that was Scarlett Butler had managed to get poor Captain Butler into her clutches again. But also, surprisingly, a considerable amount thought Scarlett, with her green dress and still youthful face looked like the Persephone carried away to the Hells by the dark Hades, a paganism that fascinated them as much as it frightened them.

It was only when Rhett and Scarlett reached the house that the voices behind them disappeared, with only the silence covering them like a comfortable blanket.

The house was dark, barely lit when they came back. Softly, Rhett took off the shawl from his wife's shoulders, leaving his hands wander almost solemnly down the arms. Her lids fluttered, her mouth half opened. He gulped and helped her ascend the stairs, the rhythm of his heart deafening.

She kept watching him, the poundings at her temples keeping her from thinking clearly. When he stopped, she did not understand at first. But then, when she turned her head, here it was. The door of the sanctuary.

"You're very silent, my dear," he remarked when she continued staring at it. "What are you thinking about?"

She turned her head towards him and decided.

She was going to tell him everything. He would know what to do. Together, they'd find a solution.

Yet, her desire was stronger than her fear. After all, she thought, with the plans gone, she had more time. More time to secure Rhett by her side. To have him completely, finally. She gulped, then pressed his hand against her lips, trying to convey her feelings to him, the love, the hope, the urgency… She felt herself shivering with the need for it.

"Scarlett… What is going on?"

Raising on her toes, she put her hands around him and kissed him, wanting to erase every trace of another on her lips. To leave only him, his touch, his taste. There was passion in it, a passion akin to despair with the fear of losing him, whether it was forever or only for a moment, and she felt him answer it with his own. She clung to him as if her arms could make him stay.

Then, lowering her eyes, she paused, wetting her lips to feel once again the taste of him, her arms slowly back to her side as she took two steps back. Swiftly, she opened the door. She waited, unsure, then turned towards the love of her life. She could see he had shoved once again his fists in the pockets of his trousers. She opened her mouth, wanting to erase the uncertainty and self-depreciative calculations she saw in his eyes. But she could not find the words. Her mouth closed. Her eyes turned downcast.

She was shaking. She was cold without him. She was hot with him. Her heart shook her with its incessant poundings, and she felt she might faint.

She had stepped into the flame, a fire they had teased over and over, and now she wanted to go back in. Fully, this time.

She finally raised her eyes.

She could not speak anymore, but she put out a hand towards him. There was still a tenseness in her, but it was softened by the glow in her eyes and the rosy flush on her cheeks.

"Rhett…!" She called pleadingly.

Looking at Rhett, she felt like she had stricken a string and he now snapped. His eyes were blazing, his fists clenching, then unclenching.

"Oh, you damned witch…!"

In a strode, he joined her and took another passionate kiss from her lips. His hands gathered at the small of her back, pressing her against his hard, exciting body. She felt his strength, overpowering her like a tide that caught her unaware, almost sweeping her off her feet. Her hands gripping her collar, she drew him inside.

Behind them, the door closed with a bang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm currently writing a funny scene that will happen in a few chapters that I can't wait to share with you. Though I doubt very much Rhett will find it very funny at the time.
> 
> So now, who wants to be in the room where it happens? (kudos for the one who caught the reference )
> 
> Be prepared to scream. The next chapter is one I have prepared since the very beginning. It'll come very soon.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you all for your never-ending support!
> 
> This is where the story gets quite mature. I wasn't laughing when I told you to be prepared to scream.

First was taken off the dress, then the corset and the bustle. The reticule fell miserably to a side, heavier than it was supposed to be. Scarlett kicked them out of the way, relieving him of his jacket, lips not leaving lips, desire meeting desire.

Oh, that dress, Rhett thought. He had been driven mad by it, the image nagging him of the girl he had wanted to reach for so long, replaced with the woman he could not live without. At first, his mind would not believe it, thinking it was a trick. It was almost the same dress as when she had declared her love for the wooden-headed Ashley Wilkes, and he had a hard time not to push her back to her room and have her all for himself so that she might not be tempted elsewhere. 'Rewrite history'… He had never believed in that, but if it amused her and it involved her ending up with him, he was prepared to do just that.

Yet, she had sung for him, declared publicly she was his, so much that it had felt like torture to let her go and flirt in that automatic way of hers with Richard. The only pleasure he found was that she seemed to want to get away from him, though, in his mind, he thought she was whispering words that did not go with that attitude, and that fed on his fear.

No, he would not think about it. He had seen how genuine she was with him. He was the one she had chosen, and damn, he'd choose her again and again. He had been waiting for so long for her…

In the dimmed light of the lamps, it was almost hard to see what they were doing. Yet, Rhett could see her eyes, the green light leading him home, where he belonged.

She was now in her shift, shaking violently with the need of him. The linen was light, barely concealing the hint of her nipples pointing toward him, the tantalizing curves of her hips. She opened her arms to him and he returned the embrace. His lips were hot and rough on her soft ones, yet it was all she wanted, all he wanted.

She put her legs around him, and he sat sideways with her at a side of the bed, still immersed in a world of their own. Her hands were at each side of his face, urging him to continue. As if it was needed.

She tasted of Champagne and lust, a dangerous mix he was drawn to, adding his own in the process.

He tasted of cigars and love, and she did not want to let that go.

With frustration, she tried to take his necktie off, yet the knot was unlike the ones she had known, at the time when she could be asked by her father to make it again when he was too disheveled after riding his horse. Her fingers fidgeted around it, and it seemed she made it worse. With dancing eyes, he stopped his caresses and got out of his pocket a Swiss knife. He stopped before cutting it, then put it in her hands carefully, his fingers drawing soft circles on the back of it. She froze. His eyes, full of desire and sudden vulnerability, did not leave her, and she realized the amount of trust he was demonstrating to her. Her hands trembled, yet she held it still, her heart pounding dangerously. The blade ran through the fabric, barely touching the skin underneath, and she shivered at the sound of the silk being torn apart.

She threw the knife away and kissed him, her fingers gripping at his hair desperately. With surrender, he pressed her against him.

She did not want that kind of power over him. She just wanted to love him.

Her lips joined his in a dance only they knew, each fighting for a dominance that yet did not have any winner. When came the time to take a breath, they stared at each other after they got rid of his shirt, almost ripping it, their mouths opened as if they could not bear to be parted again, and just wanted to dive in again.

She put his hand over her heart, her eyes burning and voice shaking with love.

"I am yours. Body, mind, heart, soul… It's all yours…"

She felt him tremble, all his walls crumbling down at her gesture et words, his eyes bright with so many emotions she felt they would both cry with the strength of it. He caressed her cheek with awe and kissed her lips once again, pressure after pressure.

Swiftly, he untied her shift, his hand slipping under it to take a breast and she moaned at his touch. He got rid of the offending garment, slipping it down. He smirked as he saw her bloomers. No, his Scarlett was certainly not like the other ladies. She was vibrant, passionate, and she would not let herself be caged. Full of anticipation, he felt himself like a boy opening a gift. Yet, he was a man, and he felt himself just hardening at the sight. He made his way with kisses from her lips to her throat, and marked her as his, delighting in her answers to his ministrations.

When the last piece of clothes on them was gone, they stopped a moment, staring at the other and trying to retrieve their wits and breath, their pulse deafening.

He saw her meaning before she even began to say it.

"Scarlett, you don't have to…"

And the truth was that he was a bit afraid she would do this. He had always been in control and her taking initiative was as much something he craved as something he was anxious about. Would she be tender? Fierce? Would she use him, like he once used her? If he told her to stop, would she?

Biting her lip, she looked at him with apprehension. She had never done that. Until her marriage, she did not know she could do that, taking the initiative, acting, touching as a man would. Now, she understood all the urgencies, all the things, the touches that she had rejected the first times they had coupled, feeling how strange it was when the conjugal duties had always been for her just that: the duty of laying and waiting until the intrusion in her womanhood stopped. Yet, little by little, begrudgingly, she had learned with him, unsure if it was right, confused by the attentiveness of his gaze who seemed to wait for every one of the treacherous reactions she did not want to give him, until one night, one night of madness and lust, she could not hold back anymore all the things it brought.

But he had already had that experience…

She glared at him, fierce, the defiance making her boldly put her hand around his erected manhood. He gasped at her gesture. She would make him forget all the women he had had before her. She was Scarlett O'Hara Butler, and she would not be bested by anyone, she decided.

She felt her core pulse with need and she gasped, surprised at this sharp feeling, her fingers slightly tightening around him.

"Softly," He hissed as he put his hand on hers. "Be soft with me…"

 _I'm already too far gone_ , he thought.

She released a breath and she blinked.

"Did I…?"

He rose, kissing her desirously, and she relaxed. "No… But if you continue, I might not be able to hold on…"

"Oh."

He bit lightly the lobe of her ear, guiding her, and she opened her mouth, the ghost of a cry not even leaving her lips, especially when his hand left her to touch her lower lips.

"You are so wet, my love," He whispered. "Have you been waiting for me that long?"

Releasing him, she pushed him back to the bed, flushed, and kissed him to make him shut up, yet she could not deny the truth of it.

"And what is that against my belly? Are you pointing a dagger at me, husband?"

He chuckled darkly. "I thought we should not talk about such things. My, Scarlett, I'm surprised…"

She pouted, cheeks burning and eyes almost dark with desire on him.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

And she did. Ferociously, the kisses almost akin to bites, both of them wanting to take a taste of the other. He put his hands in her hair, pushing her against him and she felt his need growing, like the low rumbling of a predator about to pounce. She rested her hands on his chest, feeling she might lose it if they slipped. She was pressed so hard on him she felt every outline of his, each part touching a part of her she barely knew could procure such gripping sensations. She rubbed herself on him, blindly trying to ease that scratch, yet it wasn't nearly enough. Instead, it seemed the sensation went higher and higher. She was groping at each feeling, each arousal that left her shivering and arching. He groaned against her, following her in that merry hell she was leading him to. Slowly, as if realizing what she needed, she straightened and led him in.

She let out an almost feral whine as he entered her, and he almost let out a soft cry of relief. _Yes_ , he thought. _That's my port where I always anchor, that's my home. I am home, finally…_

"You are glorious…" He whispered as she began to ride him, her frame swaying on him in the most sensual way he felt he would barely last enough time. It had been so long, the waiting of her, and now she was there, with him…

She only answered with a hum, eyes half close, focused on her own rhythm, and the waves of feelings that came with it, stronger and stronger.

With his foot on the board of the bed, he slipped them wholly in it, his hands gripping her buttocks, and she cried out, arching as his cock went deeper in her. She felt it pulse, the echo of it a storm that deepened as she pushed and pushed against him. He hissed as she gripped the hair on his chest, the pain a slight tingle compared to the pleasure it procured. It would certainly leave a scratch, he thought. Yet, he did not care. His heart pounding, he reached out for her cheek, barely believing she was here, by his side, a reality more than the dreams that had haunted him so many times.

"Scarlett, look at me," he pleaded when he wanted to order, voice hoarse yet insistent. "LOOK AT ME!"

She opened her eyes wide, savage and firm, her eyes claiming him as her man, and he wanted to scream he was just that.

"Rhett!" She cried. And he understood her plead.

He turned the tables and suddenly he was all her world, wind, water, earth and fire combined, wild and fierce, without any restriction, pushing her until she cracked. He took her hands with his, put them aside. The fingers intertwined.

Her body arched through the wave of pleasure that overcame her. She felt she could not control anything anymore, not even herself, and yet she accepted it with bliss, every pore of herself open to him and the sensations he was bringing her to. It felt like she was jumping from a cliff, the salted wind whipping her, making her feel alive and clean. And all she could say, was "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

With a growl, he pushed himself away from her and she cried, the gesture so strong he hit the board at the end of the bed, and she almost feared it would break. His seed spilled on the sheets and she watched, still dazzled, her legs still opened and deliciously aching. His head was downcast, and she could only see clearly his clenched jaw, and his strong chest rising and falling painfully quickly.

She blinked, realizing, the cold coming back to her with the lack of him, and a doubt coming to her. He did not want to finish inside her. He did not want the consequences of it.

Did he not want to be with her?

Quietly, she went closer to him, her heart beating to the tip of her lips. With a trembling hand, she touched his cheek, and he finally looked at her. Seeing his eyes, all doubt left her.

He touched her back, the long fingers grazing her jaw in wonder.

"My baby… my woman… my queen..."

She hiccupped in a relieved giggle. Her heart fluttered.

He took her in his arms fiercely and she melted under him, happily surrendering to his power, for in a way, it also became hers, theirs.

She had him. She had him!

And he had her. Completely.

She closed her eyes, feeling happy tears flowing down her cheeks. He kissed it away, tenderly, lovingly. Exhausted with too many feelings, they fell asleep in each other's arms, to the rhythm of the other's heart.

The morning came too soon, its light intruding through the opening of the thick curtains, and Rhett was the first to wake up.

He looked at her, at the naturally red lips, the tender curves as she slept and the white skin that thankfully were not covered in make-up anymore. A feeling of urgent, animalistic love in his heart made him want to wake her and take her again. Yet, he refrained from it. His hand caressed her tousled hair softly, and he kissed it, humming with a smile the tender flowery scent.

He'd push her to leave with him. They had no time now. She was already on the break, at his mercy. One little incentive and she'd be on her knees, asking him. He was going to show her the limits of her demands, and she'd realize on her own that it could be so much more if only she asked.

It was a gamble, but one he was sure of the ending now.

Oh, the torture to untangle his limbs from hers, but they had not a lot of time to waste. Until tonight, maybe. So many things needed to be done…

He began to dress himself, a feeling of deep satisfaction in himself, and a confidence he had not felt for so long.

He was buttoning his shirt when she awakened, the pleasing ache still settled in her chest and between her legs. His back was on her and she smiled. She tried to reach him, yet her hand fell down. He had raised from the bed to take his jacket. She blinked, observing him, her heart held in a tight grip.

He had felt her awakening. His ears had perceived the slight nuzzle of her face in the pillow, followed by the whisper of the linen of the sheets. He did not turn back, feeling he would give all of his cards away if he did. Instead, he briskly finished tying the knot of his necktie. The ring was in his pocket, waiting.

"So. It's the end of our little game. The two days are over."

She stiffened.

His voice was teasing, but she was not. She had not perceived it. In a heart was a strong feeling of doubt and fear that wouldn't go. Isn't it enough? She thought. Was this night just this? A little game?

All of his words, her words, the words of others came to her. All the bad words, the pity in Mrs. Meade's voice… No, she'd prove them wrong, she had to!

She'd push him to stay, she thought, swiftly putting her gown on, and kissing darling Bonnie's cameo on it for good chance. She'd give him what he said he wanted, show him the limits of his game. Then he'd have no choice but to ask her to stay. She wouldn't beg anymore. She had already begged enough. She could not hold it anymore. The matter was too urgent and she did not see any other way.

She opened the drawer of her dressing table, took the papers of divorce and signed it.

"Yes. Yes, it is," She said as she handed it to him, her eyes defiant. "Here, take it, Rhett. You are free to leave, now. As you wanted."

He froze, his heart falling. Seeing her insistent eyes on him, he felt himself closing up. No, she would not be allowed to see.

"So this is it, then?" He said carefully. "Alright. Alright…"

She observed him closely. "Isn't it what you said you wanted?"

He nodded, his mouth violently down, before it turned into an ironic, mean smile.

"Yes, you've got me. Thank you for this… last little fun party. It was quite enjoyable. And you are free to… whatever man you took into your unsubtle nets," He shoved his fists in his pockets, fighting the urge to put them around her pretty neck. "May I ask who? The honorable Ashley? I've seen him look at you quite feverishly yesterday. You had the dress for it, after all. Or maybe that feeble little Todd?"

She stared, dumbfounded, her heart plummeting.

"What?"

"Or maybe Richard finally got at you?" He snarled, gripping her hard on the elbows, his eyes burning on the traitress before him. "I should have known. The necklace… I knew I had seen it before. Well, sorry to destroy your illusions, _my little queen of deceit_ , but you've been deceived. He's only interested in you because of a bet we had. So tell me, is it him?"

"What?"

There, the mask slipped a little, letting a glare show.

"Don't play the foolish ingenue with me, Scarlett, you owe me that at least."

"I do not owe you anything!" She snapped, escaping his grip. "You come into my life on and on, always expecting something from me, but never telling me anything about it. I don't see why suddenly you're at me like some… jealous husband or anything. It's not like you want to stay with me, don't you?"

Her slanting green eyes were intense on him as she said so, cat-eyes observing their prey, waiting for the moment to prowl.

But he was no mouse for her to catch.

He huffed, took the papers, put it in his suitcase and descended the stairs with it.

"Not jealous, my pet, don't flatter yourself. Merely curious."

"Do you have such an opinion about me that you can't even see the truth anymore?" She cried, gripping at the banister, swiftly trying to follow him. "Even when I told you so so many times?"

He sneered, and she felt cold all over.

"Oh, the truth, yes, I've seen it. I've heard it too. Quite a gruesome tale, though I could see you were none too pleased about it and at one moment, I thought you would just give it up. Revenge is not such sweet a thing, is it? Fool that I was, I thought that you'd stop, but it seemed you had to surprise me once more."

She froze in the middle, numbed by the distance between them. There it was, as the last time. He was leaving her, and she was trying to prevent him.

"What do you want, Rhett? Oh, can't you just admit it?" She insisted, feeling the floor crumbling under her feet. She was losing control of the situation and she did not like it. "One day you say you love me, the other you act like you can't wait to be far from me. Oh, my darling, can't you see? I have been wanting you to react, to get you to notice. I'm waiting for you halfway, as you asked me to do. I've been trying to show you that I am. Won't you join me there? Why can't you never afford to tell me what you really feel? Why is it easier in a game? Is my love not enough for you to stay and reach out to me? What do you want?"

She was still playing with him. He had finally seen through her ploy, and still, she continued her act.

Finally at the end of the staircase, he raised his head toward her, jeering. He gripped the handle of his suitcase. A cruel smile came to his mask, his heart bleeding underneath.

"My dear, you misunderstood me. I have what I want, haven't I? I am finally free, and more than that, I got to have a little piece of fast pleasure on the way. There's nothing for me halfway, my pet. I've learned long ago you have nothing worthwhile for me."

From her lips came an agonizing scream, like a wounded animal crying for mercy. Swiftly, she took off her engagement ring and missed him.

"Take it back, Rhett! No, more than that, take _all_ back! Take that shallow piece of jewelry, that is worth as much as your love for me!" She cried, "You wanted me to be ashamed by it, and now so am I, to have thought I could ever have believed it was gold, not glitter, and to have wanted to fight for it, fight for you. Just like glitter, it faded away with just a touch of the wind. You can keep all these fears you have, and that have prevented you from ever reaching out when you could have had me! Because you could have had me, Rhett, and that's the saddest thing of all. No, you _had_ me. I wanted to prove to you that I could fight by your side, be your equal. But that's not what you wanted… That never was what you wanted. But don't you guess it, Rhett?" She relented. "In the way, it seems I became so much more! Go ahead, try, I can leave without you!"

She threw away her wedding ring with a sharpness that hurt her finger, this time hitting him in the chest.

"Take it all, your empty whispers in the night, your secrets and lies, and leave me, just like you know so much how to do when life is coming to crumbles and the world is upside down. Even now, I know you're lying to me, you're lying to me because you're afraid, and you can't bear to believe that I was true to you. That I showed you the truth about what I felt. You can't bear to commit and take a step toward me! How easy to think I was the unfaithful one, the untrustworthy! You're always looking for ways to prove that you were right to distrust me. Oh, but my heart has had enough of all of this! Believe what you want, Rhett, I've never been able to prevent you from doing so! I've reached out for you, again and again, and you still would not believe it, for it did not happen the way you wanted it to. You wanted the whip, and you wanted me to show my back to it! But I'll survive. I always do. This time I'll be the one that got away, not you. This is the end of my story. No reunion of great love, for that has never been what you sought, no moping around for the woman while the man becomes a triumphant martyr. Now, it's over, and I'd sooner burn to Halifax, and the whole house with me, than see your lying face again!"

The last thing she threw was the cameo on her gown, and it fell on the marble as he dodged it, an old reflex that he regretted as the sound of it broke into his ears like the shattering of a heart. Her eyes followed it and widened in recognition. He stared at it, numb, feeling his knees shaking in his boots.

With that act, her anger fell down and her legs gave up on her with a soft rustle of fabric. Only stayed the despair. He saw her mouth trembling and tears falling from her eyes, almost choking her as she tried to talk.

"Oh, my darling… I didn't mean it! It's all repeating itself and I'm… I'm… I'm sorry… So sorry… I want you! I love you… You know it's true. Don't you want me anymore? Don't you love me anymore? I thought…? Oh! Damn you, Rhett Butler! You made me beg once again! Isn't it enough?!"

He faltered, yet his mask did not slip, as if stuck with the fear that clung to him like leeches. He could not stay there. Not now, at least. He needed to clear his mind. He needed to gather his strengths. If he stayed, she would be the one to win and settle the conditions. If he stayed, he would be shattered like that piece of jewelry. She needed to see he would not be treated like a fool. And these words… No, he could not be the one to let it all down just like that. He needed to go, to retreat, to lick his wounds before coming back, in a way that would make her realize there was no other way. There were so many things that needed to be done, that he had put away for later. Yes, that would be right. Then, she'll see. He'll make her see.

Yet, how heartbreaking it was, to see her on her knees, crying and crying for him, the tears pearls on her alabaster skin he wanted to catch with his fingers, stop with his lips... How pained his heart, how urgent was the need to ran through their stairs, take her in his arms and tell her he did not mean it either!

Yet, he couldn't. Not now.

One last look and it was done.

The door closed behind him and she knew there would be no turning back. She was alone.

The door closed behind him and he knew all he wanted was to turn back. To her. To them.

But the door was closed, and he continued walking. He would find a way to open it again. He had no doubt about it. But not now. He had one last matter to settle. It would not kill her to wait a little more.

He called one of his men waiting nearby and caught him by the jacket. He whispered his orders firmly.

"Stay here. If you see anything suspicious, stop it. Until I come back, please check my wife and send me news by Pork every hour. He'll know where to put it."

He'd need to see when she would calm down. Else, she would not even listen to him. They needed to leave swiftly.

First stop at the station, where he ordered the direction of their things.

He returned to his office, consulted his files and wrote letters of convocations for three men he knew all too well. He had them now. They would stop what they were about to do.

He went to the Hotel and went to check his first messages, brought by Pork.

'Wife angry. Throws things.'

Not surprising. He'd need a little while before coming back. Her fits of anger were sharp, but it did not linger generally. Then, she would certainly sulk, wait for him to apologize. And she would certainly forget she also had to apologize.

_Oh my darling… I didn't mean it! It's all repeating itself and I'm… I'm… I'm sorry… So sorry… I want you! I love you…_

He cursed his memory. He could not afford to look back. Not now.

He tried to go see Richard, but he wasn't there. The maid told him he had left early, in a mean spirit. He cursed. Then gathered some of his men for the next steps.

Documents were sent to the journal, and he returned to the Hotel.

"Doesn't want to leave her room. Strange smell downstairs."

He sighed. His brow raised a little at the mention of the smell, but then he remembered one of the servants was known to sometimes burn what she was cooking. Which one was that? Pansy? No, Pansy was gone. So who?

It did not matter.

He went on.

Richard had still not returned. Rhett slipped into his chambers, fiddling on the lock, and looked through his things. Nothing resembling a plan. Damn. He had underestimated him. Or overestimated him, maybe. The boy had no game, only bluff. And still miniatures of that unfortunate girl that had led him on. He saw the seal on a bottle and frowned. He had certainly wanted to play a trick on him, for revenge. What a waste of time.

Rhett locked it as if nothing had happened, yet he felt unrest.

He went back to his visits, the matter taking longer than expected. So much that when he returned to the Hotel, two hours had already passed.

'Pack. Two men at the door. Made them leave. Smell worsening.'

He frowned, his jaw clenching.

Oh, hell no!

Yet, there was still another one.

'Stopped. Cries. Nothing to report.'

Oh, thank God. He still had a little time.

Yet, his heart ached at the vision of her crying on her own.

It would allow her to think, he rationalized. She would see he only wanted her good.

At least he hoped so. After all, she had waited for him when he left with Bonnie, hadn't she?

Wrong example. They had ruined that chance. And it was not comparable. She loved him, she knew it. He knew it. They would make it right. It was a misunderstanding, certainly, and now that he was away from her, he could begin to reflect more on this. Oh, if only he had seen it earlier, what was hiding behind the bravado!

She had used the same tricks as he did, and he had taken it at face value. And by doing so, they had fallen into the same traps as before.

They needed to stop doing it to each other, she was right. He knew at least he could not bear it.

He went to Bonnie's tomb and let himself grieve for her, asking her to forgive him to leave her in the dark like that, in a city he did not want to return.

When his heart was sore and his eyes hurt, he rose and continued his way.

There was one other link in Atlanta that he needed to cut away. Not the most important, yet it was essential to his future happiness.

Releasing a breath, he opened the door of Belle's house. It seemed to him he heard the sound of an explosion, but he shrugged. Must be one of these prototypes of steam buggies failing. It was the second this week.

He looked at the inside, garish and gaudy. Rich colors, sharp perfumes and textures, aggressive to his eyes, yet that somehow highlighted the girls' outfits. It was a place fit for orgies, and it showed. Not that it was a bad thing per se. A whorehouse had to look the part. Yet, he wondered how he could have spent so much time here.

Oh, yes. He was drunk and desperate most of the time. And he had a friend, ready to listen to him.

He still had a fondness for Belle. She had been there in times when he needed a willing ear and soothing gestures, and releases for all his frustrations.

Yes, he had used her. Used her because he could not have Scarlett. Used him because he knew she loved him and welcomed all his attentions. That made him feel guilty, and he did not quite linger in that. It was time for him to pay his debt. He had already done too much with his past investments on her. Now was the time when he needed to let it all go, officially this time.

He found her at the table, her tainted red hair almost flaming with the dirty light. He felt almost pity at seeing her face covered in make-up, the red sharp on her lips. Yet it went away all too soon. She was opening a big bottle of Champagne with a blue seal that made him narrow his eyes. But then he composed himself.

The answers would come in time.

"Hello, Belle."

"Rhett!" The Madam greeted him with a large smile. "I knew you'll come back! You always do. What has she done to you, now?"

He stopped, his expression stern.

"Belle… is this bottle yours?"

"Jealous?" She said with a taunting twitch of the mouth as she rose to meet him. "It's your friend, Richard, who sent it to me. Charmin lord. Pays good money and likes to send me these little bottles. A bit shy, sent me a darkie to propose me to be my silent investor. Must be the European in him. I accepted, of course. My favorite one let me down," She pouted. "Why are you here, Rhett?"

"Just a visit from an old friend," He stated coldly. "And an advice."

She put her hands on his collar, slowly taking off his cravat. Around them, there was this usual agitation, the laughs of girls overdoing it, and the music, lascivious.

"What advice woul' you give for por ol' Belle?"

He took a step back, his expression closed and stern.

"To leave. It's over now. I told you not to do it, and still you did."

She stopped.

"Well, I'm not proud of it," She turned away, furiously filling herself a glass of Champagne. She drank it and her eyes glittered. She leaned on the table for a moment, before turning back to him. She was clinging on a hope, her accent returning with a force. "But if ya're here, that means ya care, right? We're friends?"

"We were."

She froze.

"It's all about her again, isn't it?" She cried, before scowling. "Scarlett!"

The name left her lips like a curse, an insult, and he wanted to hit her for daring.

Yet, an instant of reflection made him remember it was he who brought this. He had talked to the whore so often of his wife, cursing her like she was doing now. He had entertained the woman's hopes because it brought him comfort.

"Oh, I pitied her! I pitied her, and I was glad to, when your poor child died and you did not love her anymore! But you want her still, right? But guess what? There are many who want her!"

She turned back, taking another glass.

"What is it in her that is so bewitchin?!" She snapped. "You, Richard, Ashley… She's not even a lady!"

Now, that was enough.

"Shut up, Belle!" He raged, his fists clenched and the feeling his head would explode from the strength of his fury. "You know nothing about it!"

"Oh, she's a poison to your veins, alright, a fire in your soul! But why doesn't it get at her?!" She held her head high in anger, fuming. "With all the things that she does, how could she even be able to leave from her house and attract your attention, yours and the others, when you told me she's not even good in bed?" He scowled, refraining from the envy of breaking her neck. She huffed, unaware of it. "At least, there's one of them that knows who she is, now…"

"Belle, that's enough…"

Yet, it did not seem enough for her, and she would have continued if not for the sudden agitation around them.

Rhett blinked. A siren rang through the open door like a strong winter wind. Surprised, the girls in the house gathered to see what it was all about.

He looked through the window.

"The firemen," He said numbly. "They take the way to Peachtree Street…"

At his side, Belle paled, her mouth opening, then closing. Appalled, he turned towards her.

"Belle?"

She shook her head, then held a defensive stance.

"It's not my fault. No, it's not."

"What do you mean?" He relented, gripping her shoulders urgently and shaking her. "Belle, what have you done?"

"It's her fault," She mumbled, shaking her head in shock. "She brought this. She played with fire and now she got caught in it…"

"Damn you!" He barked. "What have you done? What is happening?"

But she only repeated numbly "she got caught in it", her eyes still wide and anguished.

_She might get caught in a bigger wind than expected…_

He blinked. When had he heard that?

_I don't know… It was strange and incoherent… Fire. Wind. Death…_

A cry in the darkness, sharp among the murmurs of the crowd…

_The fire…Rhett, there's a fire! Where are you?_

_Rhett, do you believe in prophecies?_

What had he answered? He could not seem to remember.

No, it couldn't happen. She couldn't… Who would dare… It had to be another house, something else entirely.

Oh, couldn't it stop ringing?

_You, mister, are your own enemy… You think secrecy is the best way to play, but she's a wild card, the one you want…_

_Rhett, what do you want?_

_Rhett, what would you be ready to forgive?_

_If you play with her blindly, you might lose it all… Life's no gamble, sir._

_I'd sooner burn to Halifax, and the whole house with me, than see your lying face again!_

The siren rang some more. A strange foreboding in his heart, he suddenly ran to his horse and urged him to go forward. The damn animal resisted him, yet he managed to make himself be obeyed.

He saw and smelt the thick smoke before he even reached it. And when he finally got back, his eyes hurt from the burn of it. There was already a large crowd gathering. Swiftly, he jumped from his black stallion and was immediately stopped by Pork, who was in hysterics.

"Mistah Rhett! You be dere!" He cried. "Da house… Miz Scarlett…"

He pushed him away, pushed his way through the crowd, thick and frustratingly immobile. But when he went through it, he stared.

The house was on fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did my fanfiction just turn into a tragedy? *checks the tags* I would say no... Not really.
> 
> See you soon!


	27. Chapter 27

Impatiently, Rhett Butler let his eyes and ears wander around the room, the clatter of Mitterhofer's typewriter prototypes (courtesy of his, to cultivate his links to the good services of the police officers), the agitation of the men using it and shouting instructions and the plain walls with journals papers and threads of yarns linking point to point in a spider web.

His was a far more complex though, and for the moment it stayed completed in the secret of his mind.

Paul, one of his men, was investigating. He would certainly report soon. The officers were taking too much time, and he doubted they would search adequately, thinking a woman might not go too far.

Yet, Rhett knew his wife. She was resourceful, resilient and brave. She would be ready to do anything to survive. He could count on her stubborn nature for that. He would see her soon. Yes, he would. It was a matter of hours.

Oh, couldn't it be over already?

Hands clenched, unclenched.

Jack, the one he had ordered to watch over the house, was sorely missing, his absence innerving Rhett. Or maybe he was with Scarlett, and that was why it was taking so much time. It could be difficult to reason with her when she had something in mind, and he expected her to use all means at her disposal to get her way. Especially if she was angry at him.

It was Pork's time to report, and he followed the servant and the officer, determined to have answers about the hours before his wife's disappearance.

The room of investigation was even plainer, and dark. Maybe a tentative of intimidation. Though much less effective and refined than those he had known in his years of dubious, more or less official businesses. He sat down silently, crossing legs and arms, and listened.

Pork's expression was defeated, and he could see tears on it. He bet his employee was blaming himself for the fire, and was certainly imagining he was the cause of his mistress' death. The woman he had seen grow, daughter of a master he had considered almost as a friend, an accomplice.

No. Not death. Scarlett was alive. Of course, she was.

With fearful eyes, Pork began his tale, looking at Rhett for confirmation, though his nervousness grew with his actual master's progressively furious tapping of the fingers.

"First cam a smell, strenge an stronge… Der was yor man, Mister Butler, askin me about it. Miz Scarlett, she dinotte left her rom. She be cryin, por ting, den she be packing, but den she be cryin again. Den, dere was an explosion, de fire comin and spreadin, and Miz Scarlett left the rom and done ask me to gader every one. She done tole me she'd follow us, she needed to find someting."

The fool, the fool, the fool…

"Find something? What?"

"Did not say. So I gader the others, like she done tole me to do. But den, dere was already too much fire, and I couldn't. I done tole myself, Miz Scarlett's a clever one, she be followin. But den de fire…"

"You did not come to find her?" Rhett could not help but intervene in anger. "You should have forced her to come with you, drag her out if you had to!"

Damn you, Scarlett! He thought in dismay. Since when do you take such liberties with your survival?

"But, Mister… I tot you be dere."

Rhett froze. The officer, uneasy, turned towards him.

"Mr. Butler. I'd prefer it if you stay out of this."

His fists clenched. He shoved them in his pocket.

"Alright. Alright."

The servant would not say more anyway. He was already on the break of crying some more, and it wouldn't bring back Scarlett faster to him.

Where could she be? Someone like her couldn't disappear like that. One way or another, she would have given a clue to find her, he knew.

Yet, to him? With what had happened? It felt doubtful for now.

The children, maybe. She wouldn't have just left without trying to take information about their well-being, or find a way to join them.

Yet, the station was already covered, and no news seemed to come. As for the other possible options.

Rhett left the room and in the way met clear blue eyes. His mouth twisted.

"By God, what are  _ you _ doing here?"

Todd Smith was leaning on one of the desks, fidgeting nervously on the pages of a book. He blinked, then cleared his throat, unsure.

"I am a friend of your wife."

"My wife has too many friends, yet none she particularly cares about," He quipped.

It was not particularly true, yet Rhett did not like the idea of this man being Scarlett's friend. Oh, not that he felt particularly threatened. He may have been good-looking and clever, Scarlett's words still rang on his mind. She did not even consider him. Not him, nor others.

Yet, he was easily swayed, with a tendency to spy, and Rhett was uneasy with the idea of him knowing more than him of the whereabouts of his wife. It was a possibility, an irritating one. And it was no good for Scarlett. The man was the black cat of the profession. Everything he tried to invest in tended to backfire on him.

The book closed and was left at a corner.

Todd, offended, was about to protest when an officer came at Rhett's side, and whispered to his ear.

"Belle Watling has been found dead this morning. Poisoned."

Somehow, this death touched him far less than it would have, in a day when she had been his friend. Now, it was tainted with suspicions, and the mystery of his wife's disappearance.

Todd was called into the investigation room. Yet, the officer at Rhett's side stayed.

"And… We found a body in the house," The officer said. Rhett froze. "The body of a man. His throat had been slit. I think you may know him."

He looked at the object handed to him. A silver pocket watch, with the carving of a fox pouncing.

Jack's. Rhett felt a cold washing over his body. He suddenly felt left out, as if he was missing some pieces of a puzzle and could not grasp yet the image it would give, and he did not like it.

He nodded.

"It's one of my employees. I asked him to watch over the house."

One hope dashed. But it certainly explained things. But Scarlett…

He shook his head. No, he would not think about it.

The officer looked at him with compassion in his eyes, yet, Rhett would have none of it.

"I'm sorry but… I fear there's no way she could have escaped on her own, Mr. Butler. And…" He hesitated. "We found it this morning."

On the officer's palm, there was the broken cameo. Covered with blood.

Rhett felt the icy grip of fear on his guts, his heart stopping from beating.

He stared, numb. He had to go. Yes. His ideas would be clearer outside. He needed a cigar. Some fresh air.

Yet, as he went to the hall, he collided with someone. An object fell with a loud boom that echoed in the room. Rhett looked instinctually at this.

A jewelry box. Scarlett's.

Both widened their eyes. One reacted.

"I'm going to kill you," Richard fumed. "It is your fault!"

Yet, Rhett stared, unblinking. And the English Lord continued shouting and pointing, attracting the attention of other officers nearby.

"She wanted to escape with me. She loved me!" He cried. "Hear, good men, you, Rhett Butler, did that! You killed her like you killed Cassandra, like you killed our babe!"

Rhett blinked and frowned with irritation. He refrained from the idea to push him out of the way. He did not need that foolishness now. It was too early in this goddamned day.

"You know nothing, lordling, and your petty revenge against me won't change that," He jeered. "And most of all, you don't know Scarlett. Don't even dare to compare her to that harlot."

_ Didn't _ … No, no, it couldn't be.

Richard's handsome face distorted in fury.

"YOU…!"

"It's been years, Richard, do you really want the truth of it?" Do you want to know how the girl came to me, with bright eyes, asking me to help her go to a backstreet abortionist? Do you want her to know she was afraid of you?

Unwillingly, a memory he had tried to forget came to him. The only moment of true jealousy. That night when Richard had drunk too much for his sake and threw her a bottle, killing instead the kitten he had just offered her by the morning.

It was an incident, Rhett had told himself. His friend had been pushed and pushed, and who knew actually if it was actually his child?

Richard relented.

"I know that she loves me, that she promised herself to me, and she kissed me. Me, Richard, not you, Rhett Butler!"

Rhett blinked.

"Who are you talking about?"

"You did that because you could not bear knowing she was mine, and not yours! She even gave me Tara and Twelve Oaks!"

Silence. Swiftly broken by the arrival of other officers who seemed to consider what to do. No violence in behaviors, yet it was in words… And most of all, there was definitely something going on that could help the investigations.

However, one of them dumbly decided to intervene. "Now, now, gentlemen…"

"Tara…" Rhett blinked, not noticing. "Scarlett gave you Tara?"

He let out a disbelieving sneer.

"You fool! You really think she would give it to you, you who she had met only a few days before? Would you truly think she'd give the one thing that kept her fighting during the war, just for your eyes? The only thing she would have stolen for, sold herself for,  _ died _ for!"

No. No, not dead. Oh, why had he said that cursed word?

Richard fidgeted, faltered, then glared.

"I'll show you… Yes, I'll show you!"

He opened the box and looked through the content.

Rhett waited, a bit apprehensive, though by now, he had a little idea about what the man was about to find.

Certainly not Twelve Oaks and Tara's certificates of ownership, no. Scarlett would kill herself before doing that. He froze at the idea, then shook his head. No. Certainly something that would permit her to get rid of an annoying suitor. And he knew how annoyingly persistent and twisted Richard could be.

At least, he knew that it was what he would have done.

Yet… There was still a little doubt about it.

"She… betrayed me." His former friend paled, looking at the paper. "The bitch!"

With a snarl, he got a gun out of his jacket and pointed at Rhett, the gesture so sudden at first no one reacted.

"You two deserve each other."

Rhett smirked, deviously pleased by the confirmation. Yet, it did not fill the hole inside of him, that deepened as time passed and fear, unstoppable fear for his wife, crept in.

In a corner of his eyes, he saw that Todd had joined the mass.

"I entirely agree."

There, the officers tried to intervene. But they were pushed away, urged away by Lord Fenton's nervous handle of the gun.

"And I'm going to help you join her."

"Do it," Rhett said calmly. "Go ahead, shoot."

Richard was not a good shot, that's for sure. But it was better than to stay in this misery of waiting, hoping and despairing.

If she was dead, he'd join her.

If she was alive… Then, she'd live with his blood on her conscience.

"Now, now, gentlemen, let's stop…"

"DO IT!"

The door opened with a bang, revealing Pansy and another officer. All men's heads turned.

It happened in a matter of seconds.

Something passed between the Todd Smith and the newly arrived dark woman. His expression relaxed as she nodded.

Suddenly she pointed at Richard.

"Here, dat's im!" She cried. "Dat's im dat set fire to my mistress's ouse, because she'd discoverd what he's doin wit the orphanage! See it in his box, dere's proof."

Richard cursed once again.

"The bitch!" Richard shouted. Yet it was in this matter of seconds that men took advantage of his inattention and overpowered him.

Rhett laughed and laughed, the thing so strong that he was soon crouching, on his knees.

He did not even see the officers leaving with the box and a shouting Richard.

It did not matter. No, it did not matter.

Pansy stayed behind a little longer, and cursed.

"Are you mad?" She barked in his direction, outraged. "Do you really think it would have solved everything? She wouldn't want that, you fool. She wanted you to take care of the children. And now what are you doing? You set yourself into danger?"

Rhett stopped, dumbfounded by the accusation in her tone.

"SHE'S NOT THERE!" He yowled. "SHE LEFT ME!"

Whether alive or dead, her absence was like a hole in his body, bleeding, aching. No, dead, she could not be… She had to be alive. Her story wasn't finished. She couldn't disappear just like that. Not her.

He saw his former servant freeze, hesitate, then a hint of malice coming to her eyes.

"She left you, alright, and she's never coming back," She said simply. "You've wrong her so, Rhett Butler, and you'll pay for that. I hope you enjoy what you've built. It'll stay with you for the rest of your life."

He did not even blink at her change of language, no. It was something he suspected since the beginning and if once he had been amused by it, and could understand somewhat such a deception, now he simply did not care.

If the woman had shouted at him, he would have raised and fought back. Yet, she was calm, and she said nothing more than what he already thought. And more than that, he couldn't deny she, this woman who was his inferior, had seen everything, every fault of his, of hers. She was not as familiar to him as Mammy had been. But she had been a constant, invisible presence in these fallen walls he had lived, and somehow an unlikely friend to Scarlett, if what he had guessed was right…

But she'll come back, he tried to tell himself. She had to…

Todd winked at Pansy, following her as she left the room.

That man hadn't cared about Scarlett. He hadn't cared at all. Else, he wouldn't be able to act like that.

No, Scarlett was his, and he tended to be selfish when it came to what was his. At the moment, the idea of someone loving, caring for her was unbearable, for it meant he had to share her presence, her image, with someone else.

The door opened once again, and then Rhett thought he would lose it.

"Stop it all, gentlemen," Ashley Wilkes said. "I am the man you want."

Rhett had a jeering smile. Raising, he dusted his clothes.

"Oh, the knight in shining armor. It's a bit late for rescuing the maiden in distress."

Gone. Not dead. It couldn't be. He'd find her. That blood meant nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

The blond-haired man raised his feverish eyes toward the rest of the officers. He was in a pitiful shape, this knight. The shadow of a man, wasted, useless. His clothes were damp and shattered.

"I am the one who killed Scarlett O'Hara. I'm here for my penance."

Rhett froze. Blinked. Heart stopped Hands clenched, unclenched. Mouth opened, then closed. It seemed the moment went still and he could not process what was happening.

"You did what?"

Finally, it seemed that the man took notice of him. He froze.

"Mr. Wilkes…" One of the officers tried.

Yet, Rhett was faster. In a stride, he was at his former rival side, pinning him to the wall.

"I had to do it…" Ashley mumbled. "She was a poison in men's veins. A fire in my soul. I had to put her down."

"You fool, what have you done?"

No, it couldn't be… No, no, no...

Ashley Wilkes raised his head, an almost hopeful flame in his eyes, as if in search of an understanding.

"You and I, Rhett Butler, we were the victims of her charms…"

"Don't you dare compare me with you, Ashley Wilkes!" Rhett seethed, and the light died out. "You're a fool, and you stay a fool. For so long I've lived with your shadow in my life, and I thought she was the one to put it between us, when in fact, it had been you all along, sucking on my wife's strength, and on your own wife's strength, because you had none of your own!"

Yet, he did not seem to hear him.

"Mr. Butler, stop…"

"Shut up, all of you!"

Ashley continued, eyes lowered, shaking.

"The explosives were in place, and there was this smell of oil… It was as if it was fate, and I just had to light it up… I told myself, if God wants her to live, she'd escape. I've looked at the exit. I've waited and looked, yet… why did I have a gun?"

Rhett's heart plummeted, then shattered into million pieces. He felt like Pandora's box, yet it was the hope that went away in him, not the plagues.

"I don't remember… She was supposed to be my friend… She was supposed to be mine… But she wasn't mine, and she played, and she played… She wasn't the one I thought she was… These dreams that I had, of fire, of wars… Yes, that had to be the meaning, it was to prevent me from the trap I was about to jump in! And when I saw her, with that green dress, taunting me with the past and her beauty… They say the devil takes such seductive shapes… How many men had succumbed to her charms? How many good men, lured by these charms, became murderers, thieves, victims? I had to do it… Who could know Mephistopheles was a woman? I was certainly Faust despite myself… Oh, Melly, Melly!" He cried, tears coming to his eyes. "What had she done to us? She made us her slaves, and I was forced to live everyday with her temptations! I betrayed my honor, my wife for her…. And yet I wanted her… Oh, why had I wanted her? The best and softest of women was on my side!"

A painful lump in his throat, Rhett took him by the throat, having heard enough.

"So, you're telling me that you've sentenced my wife, the woman who had given you much more than you deserve, the  _ love of my life _ to a most painful and long death for… for what exactly? Not comforting you? Not giving herself to you?!"

_ I am yours…. Body, mind, heart, soul… all yours… _

_ How easy to think I was the unfaithful one, the untrustworthy! _

Rhett was almost tempted to laugh at the irony, if the matter wasn't so painful. He tightened his grip, and the man winced. "Give me a good reason. Give me a damn good reason not to end you now."

The fallen hero lowered his head, his eyes dull and lifeless.

"Do it. I should have died long ago."

Rhett blinked.

He let him go and shook his head.

"No. Killing you would be a reward to you. I won't make you a martyr, Ashley Wilkes. You don't deserve it. You don't deserve someone dirties their hands on your blood."

Ashley's shoulders fell, but Rhett wasn't finished.

"Mr. Butler!" An officer cried, but he ignored him, gripping at Ashley's shoulders.

A vicious light came to his eyes as he whispered into his enemy's ear.

"There's a truth I want you to stay for the rest of your life: you were wrong. I am the Devil. I am the one who corrupted Scarlett, who tempted her, again, and again. But you… You've murdered an innocent. It was your choice. No one forced you to do it. Not me, not God. Not even Belle, though by sucking on her life, you've sucked her hatred. You are a murderer. You are weak and you've proved it, trapping the innocent in a fire, not even looking into her eyes as you killed her, a woman that has given you so much without you never doing anything to deserve it, because you couldn't live without sucking the strength of betters than you!"

In the former gentleman's face was an expression of total agony. His eyes widened in horror and pain.

"Enough! Enough! Mercy!"

_ Mercy?! _

"No, it's not enough! You'll have no mercy, not from me, damn you! You made her your obsession, and now you made me your nightmare, and I'll make sure you never find any peace nor haven on this earth!"

He pushed Ashley Wilkes into the wall and left, ignoring the calls of the officers behind him, too afraid to catch him and the repercussions it could have.

He went back to Peachtree Street automatically, without a thought. He was cold, empty.

Yet, only ruins awaited him, and a white smoke that still hovered around it.

He turned back.

He went to the Hotel and took a room. Silently, he drew the curtains and sat on a chair, eyes in the darkness.

Nothing ever mattered anymore. He was lost. Everything was dark. Everything was flavorless.

Scarlett… was dead.

He was  _ dead _ .

…

On the day of the funerals of the late Scarlett O'Hara Hamilton Kennedy Butler, a strong wind was blowing in Atlanta, putting everyone in disarray. The good people of Atlanta and beyond gathered to intend. Many by curiosity, and by love of gossips. Some who hated her and still did. Some who hated her once, and appreciated her better even more now that she was dead.

Nuns from the orphanage had gathered children and were praying silently. It had been a surprise, actually. No one had ever thought it would happen, yet when the news came, some of the children recognized the lady on the first page of the journal. They remembered her story, they remembered the boy who had been with her, the image they gave, that of a family they wanted to have, but did not dare to hope. One nun had been convinced. Then two. Then three. The Mother Superior stayed in her office. But she did not prevent them. She had no reason to, anymore.

The first part had been, to the disappointment of most, surprisingly calm. People barely said anything, the priest said the words as he should. The infamous husband stayed silent, immobile, his eyes dead, dull, when once they had been alive with mischief. It was the last straw for the poor Captain Butler, and even those who were beginning to see him in a dark light now saw him with pity.

As for the children of the deceased, no one had dared to tell her the unfortunate news. They were too young, they had already been through a lot. Let them live a little more in ignorance, Henry Hamilton had said, in discussion with Mrs. Meade. It could not be advised, for no one could actually be sure it would be held properly, without havocs. Miss Pittypat had agreed whole-heartedly, lamenting on the poor children, all alone in this world. Yet, she wasn't ready to offer them any place, for it was already so tiny, in her home!

It was with scruples the lawyer had made his decision, contrarily to Mrs. Butler's will who gave this responsibility to her husband. Yet, said husband had secluded himself for days now, not even taking care of the preparations of the funerals, fact which had loosened many a tongue on the relationship between husband and wife. It had taken many to persuade him (rather forcibly) to intend and not stay in the darkness of his room. Poor Bonnie Butler's name had to be mentioned.

One candle had been lit to represent Scarlett's youngest sister, Carreen, who could not intend, stuck to bed with smallpox. The other, the one that had been wronged by her, had her hands clenching and unclenching, frowning and frowning, so most hopes were all on her, despite the attempts of her own husband, that Cracker Will Benteen, who was trying to comfort her. To some, he did so begrudgingly: the woman had killed her own father and now had sold their home to who knew who. People stared and stared, until finally came her time to talk.

At first, she tried to appear dignified. She straightened her pose, her head up high, her hands clasped in front of her. Yet, her words were too soft, whiny, and no one quite understood what she was saying. And when the wind finally blew her dress, shockingly showing her petticoat, she let out a cry of frustration and turned toward the coffin, accusing.

Some eyes glinted. There it was, the scandal they expected.

"You always had to find a way out and to be the center of attention, uh, Scarlett? I had the upper hand, and you just had to die, like that, just to spite me?" The sister of the deceased yelled. "I hate you! I hate you, I hate you, I…"

She raised her foot, as if to kick the coffin, yet she froze. Tears came to her eyes and she faltered, grasping at her shawl, trying to keep it around her shoulders with a desperate grip. Will Benteen took her by the hands. Yet, when he did so, her eyes wandered and paused in Rhett Butler's blank face. Wrath lit her eyes and she ran to him. Will caught her, but by the time he did so, she had already scratched the other man's cheek.

"You murderer!" Suellen wailed, barely contained in her husband's arms. "You've killed my sister! You'll go to hell for that! You will! You've killed my sisteeeeerrr!"

The rest of the words were lost in the grief, and she buried her tears and sobs on Will's shoulders.

Yet, Rhett Butler did not even blink. The whispers continued, louder.

The priest stared, shocked, then gave a panicked gesture to proceed.

Rhett heard the bells, the coffin being slowly lowered to the ground.

This awaked him.

"What's in the box?" He mumbled. "What's in it?"

He raised his hand to make it stop and strode towards the tomb. Someone called him, tried to make him stop. Yet, he did not see it. All that mattered was that rectangular piece of wood, too simple for someone like Scarlett.

He grazed the coffin with trembling hands, the image of her in his mind, so vivid, so clear. Scarlett with her bright green eyes, that sharp tongue he had never managed to tame, the way her body danced sometimes without knowing. The life pouring through every pore of that body that had fitted so perfectly with his, the power she had had on him, and how she surrendered to his…

Scarlett, dead? It couldn't be. He couldn't believe it. He needed to see… He needed to touch…

The fingers found the opening and pulled. He froze. Nothing. No one.

That was when hell went loose.

He kicked the empty coffin, kicked until the wood splattered, kicked until it broke, barely aware of the reactions of horror around him, and when it was done he fell on his knees with a feral cry to the sky.

Yet, the sky would not answer. So he lowered his head and cursed, his eyes black as a night without light, a night without hope. The weak, broken man that had been barely there, the poor, unfortunate one was gone, and instead, the Devil had taken his stead. Some signed themselves. Others stared. But none talked, even the ones who wanted something unusual to happen.

"Damn you, Scarlett. You wanted me to regret leaving you, you foolish, blind woman and you won't have that satisfaction. It is you who will regret leaving me. What? You've given me a taste of paradise, of understanding, a vision of grace and charm, and now you're gone?! Hear me out," He paused, before shouting. "HEAR ME OUT, ALL OF YOU, DAMN HYPOCRITES! … Damn you, Scarlett. Oh, I'm sure you're happy now, seeing how they are gathering around you, how they are singing your praises… But not me, no, not me. You'll not have that out of me. You could have, but not now. I curse you, Scarlett. May your disloyal little soul find no peace neither in heaven nor in hell!"

"Mr. Butler!" Mrs. Meade cried.

In a corner, Suellen wailed, and was brought farther by her husband.

"May it wander helplessly in that ruined house you've lived and that I've paid for, and find no content until it finds mine, and when it does, you'll see how deliciously cruel I can be. You haven't seen nothing yet!"

He laughed, madly, helplessly. The laugh of the devil, making the old cats that had resisted cross themselves and back away. The nuns gathered the children, afraid, and left first.

"Damn you, Scarlett, you had promised to me!"

"Mr. Butler, enough!" The priest pleaded.

"THERE'S NO BODY IN THE COFFIN!" He screamed, as if possessed. "NO BODY!"

He raised with fire in his eyes and glared at the remaining crowd.

"Leave. All of you damn fools. LEAVE!"

The good populace of Atlanta coming to the event blinked, and most just did it.

One stayed, though, and waited a long time in the background for the aftermath.

Which came soon after, when the cemetery emptied itself. The legs of Rhett Butler fell under him.

Henry Hamilton shivered unwillingly, but duty must be done.

With a calm voice, he approached the grieving man. After all, he had met that kind of men, that would crack at the funerals of a loved one, and he had always known how to handle it.

Never so violently, though. Even if he wasn't a particular religious, he felt suddenly tempted to cross himself, especially with the strength of the wind, that seemed at the moment linked to the man's wrath.

"Mr. Butler… Come with me."

He took him by the arm and urged him up. It was a shell he was almost carrying, dull, tired eyes, glaring at him. Yet, Rhett Butler followed numbly to Mr. Hamilton's office, not saying a word.

Once inside, he was offered coffee, but he wouldn't touch it. Henry Hamilton sighed. From all of his missions, this was the one he detested the most. He gathered his hand in front of him and settled in his desk, taking out the papers from his drawers. Professionally, he began.

It was a routine, after all. Nothing less than usual. It wouldn't do if he considered it differently.

Except it was about the death of one who had been close to him. He cleared his throat.

"My niece was a lot of things, and mostly I did not agree with her. And I still don't. Yet, she trusted you, and it is my duty, though I know you will fail yours, to tell you what she has left you. First of all, the store and the benefits of it, that she wanted you to take care of until Wade or Ella came of age and took an interest in it. Then, the ownership of Twelve Oaks and Tara…"

The man raised his head abruptly.

"She has given me Tara?" and it sounded like 'she has given me her heart?'

There was a maddening light in Rhett's eyes, and Henry Hamilton felt himself falter.

He considered the next steps.

Here, there was the custody for the children.

Yet, Rhett Butler was not in state to take care of them. Not even of himself.

Henry Hamilton was conflicted. On one side, the Law, and morals even, wanted him to respect a Will and to inform the heirs.

It was already a bad trick on Scarlett's part to give Twelve Oaks to her husband, when she had promised India Wilkes not to give it away to him. Well, that was stories of the past, stories of women, and he had learned not to partake in such foolishness. Yet, here, it was different. Wade was his great-nephew. As his family by blood, he had the duty to take care of him. He'd be better with his family by blood, he reasoned. It would be better like that.

The decision was swiftly taken. The custody was slipped quietly in his satchel.

He took back the custody. Now was left Scarlett's letter. This would be easier.

"… and a letter, by your late wife. You may take time to read it."

With hurry, he left the man alone to ponder, the letter on his desk for only company.

At first, Rhett did not react. Then, as the infuriating ticking of the oak clock continued, he raised silently and approached the desk. He hesitated, then took the piece of paper.

.

_ My dearest Rhett, _

_ If we ever miss each other again… _

_ Well, it wouldn't be hard to imagine, for I believe we missed each other quite a lot! _

_ In what sense, you would ask with that infuriating smile of yours. In all senses, maybe. We've never been people to do things half-way, so I better try to prepare for the eventuality. Even if it hurt. _

_ Anyway, I'm sure you'll find a way. I trust you. It's just in case. _

_ No matter what, I want you to know that I love you, and I know you love me. I know you love my children, our children. You've seen them grow, they are more yours than they ever were their fathers'. You've cared for them, seen them grow. In Wade, there is this firmness, this intellectual curiosity, that are not mine, but yours. In Ella, there's this soothing side that is yours in part, though I'm sorry to tell you the other (and bigger) part is Melly's . So don't get too cocky about my saying so many compliments! _

_ Yet… I'm glad I made the right choice. Marrying you, despite all the infortunes, all the misunderstandings, all the tears and misery, had certainly been the rightest decision I ever made. For me, for my children… You've tried to give me security, but the sad thing is that you alone couldn't have done this. No one could have. No one, but I could have gotten rid of the nightmares that haunted me and made all my flaws all the more overwhelming. You've given me the means, but I had yet to take it and use it. I should have realized you couldn't wait for me forever. You're a strong man, Rhett, a patient man. Yet, you're not invulnerable, though I would like to believe so. I hope (though very begrudgingly) you find what you're searching for. That vision of charm and grace (see, I've listened to you!). Even if it is without me. You deserve it. _

_ Did I ever tell you, my love? When she died, my mother cried out a man's name. But it was not my father's. It was that of another. My mother, that I thought a Saint, so pure, so unreachable, so unlike me, who was trying too hard to be something I was not… She loved another. Someone bold, someone adventurous. Someone who got away. Someone like you, it seems, though I'd be angry if you let yourself be killed like that, so don't you even dare! _

_ It seems I am my mother's daughter, after all. Once I love,  _ truly _ love mind you, it is until the very end. And I love you. I love your cunningness, that way you take a malicious interest in showing the others the limits of their sayings. I love that when you love, you do anything for that. I love your strength, and I love your weaknesses. And I believe in the end, it will be your name that I'll cry out. Rhett. Rhett. Don't leave me. Stay with me. Hold me. Rhett, I love you… _

_ You are the love of my life, and I hope to have been the love of yours. Take care of the children if I'm not here. I hope you will never have to read this letter. But one might never know, with us. _

_ Hasn't it been a great adventure? _

_ As always, _

_ Your Scarlett, your wife, the woman who love.d you so _

.

For the first time in ages, Rhett Butler put his forehead on his fist and cried. The letter stayed in his hand, slightly crumpled, before slipping unnoticed under the desk.


	28. Chapter 28

Good and bad, right and wrong are things defined by society, and the good society of Atlanta certainly knew it. They held these words like weapons and gave them to those who deserved it. Though one might wonder at time if memory wasn't failing them a little.

Scarlett O'Hara, once reviled by all, was now the symbol of corrupted innocence. Who would have thought? They remembered her in her green dress and her still youthful face, and how she was then abducted by that Scallawag, that devil Rhett Butler. They remembered how he had tempted her, again and again, isolating her little by little from the good society, and encouraging her to that infame masculine business with the mills. They remembered how he had married her so quickly after the death of her husband and that it was he who introduced her to others like him and Carpetbaggers, and to that cursed Bullock.

Most hadn't liked her when she was alive. Some had thought her a fast piece of baggage, ignorant and improper. Yet, under these words, it had been mostly jealousy, envy at her spirited ways, at the facts that she seemed to succeed where even some men seemed to fail. But also at her enduring charms, that magnetism that left no one untouched.

But now, with her death, how easy it was now to see the qualities she had been bestowed! The good society saw in her a way to keep their women and girls on a good path. Look at Scarlett O'Hara, they said. Look what a good girl she had been, and how the Devil had corrupted her, abused her so! But look how, strong with the support and the qualities the Old South had given her, she had managed to put on a last fight, with that womanly care of the orphanage! Be good, girl, they said. Stay on the good path, listen to your elders. Be like these good women around you, demure and submissive to their men, good men of the South.

How seductive Rhett Butler had been. The seduction of Lucifer, trying to tempt these good people of the South with that malicious smile on his face! Most of the good society now remembered they had not believed a word of what he had said, that they knew from the first meeting that he was the worst man on earth. They remembered his words about the Cause, how he jeered at their hopes. How he had used the Cause and worked with the Yankees for money. And how vulgar it had been to use that poor girl Bonnie in his schemes! Like the devil, he fed on innocence, and laughed at their miseries, while trying to make them kneel.

But the South would not kneel to him now. He had shown his true colors and now there was no turning back.

Yet, good as the society was, some decided to give him one last chance.

Decidedly, there had been something of angels and demons surrounding the couple Butler. No matter what, the devil was in place, for sure. And it began a few days after the funerals. The first week, it seemed as if Rhett Butler was doing the right thing, keeping up with his Scarlett's work by opening the orphanage, named after that saint Melanie Wilkes, hiring trustworthy housekeepers and governesses. Bravely, some members of the good society of Atlanta tried to overcome their terrible impressions of the man, especially after these terrifying curses and the destroying of the coffin. He was, after all, a man, and even the blackest sheep had somehow to be brought back to the herd.

At first, the Mother Superior had been violently refusing to give out her post. That children went to intend the funerals of a benefactor after the whorehouse was taken down, alright. But relinquish her role with the children, and the power it gave her, was not something she had been prepared to. She had spat and cursed, and demanded the help of the good ladies who had been tempted to provide it for her… Until one day, she stopped and, pale like a ghost, she accepted to give up on the children. Some people that knew her then pretended she had seen at night the ghost of the late Scarlett O'Hara, bright with a divine halo, urging her to close the orphanage in favor of the new one, and to lead a pilgrimage in honor of Mary Magdelene. Impressed with such a vision, the Mother Superior had seen the sins in her life overpowering her, making her see the light.

Hearing it, Rhett Butler raised an eyebrow and his jaw tightened, according to observers, and he said a jeering 'No, she didn't.'

It was strange, the way he talked about Scarlett these days, as if she was still alive, at his side. As if she was just on a vacation, and would come back soon.

Then he commissioned a statue for the orphanage, in memory of his wife.

It was an imposing thing, with an incredible likeness to the real one carved in marble. Scarlett O'Hara in that green, nostalgic dress. The image of the South, what it had been, the peacefulness of that way of life.

People had seen how pale he had been, how he had looked at it as if suddenly realizing she was not there, and almost felt pity for him, for he looked broken, and maybe then in his grief, he would maybe forget some of their unpaid debts. Or erase them, in memory of his late wife. That day at least gave some hope for it.

Yet, a strangeness also was at foot, and people realized it when the next day, a police officer told quite the horrifying tale. Escorting Mr. Butler to the ruins of his former house, he had seen the man break down, then freezing, a terrible expression on his face. "Have you heard?" He had said. Have you heard?"

Then, he had wandered hopelessly in the ruins, calling his wife's name, repeating he had heard her whispering his name. He had been relentless in his quest, and when the officer had tried to reason with him, the man had almost hit him.

Kindly, the good people thought it would be good to ask employees in the asylum to keep a watch on him. Dear India Wilkes had been most vocal about it, and people had been touched by her solicitude when Rhett Butler had been the one to send her own poor, gentle brother to the harshest and poorly kept institute for disabled men, with vulgar employees coming to take him once he set a foot out of the police station.

The next day, he remembered all the debts every one of them had with him and came to collect them. That was when his evil nature jumped back, and he injured the memory of poor Scarlett by calling them hypocrites, unfeeling, and opportunists using the loss of her for their interest.

Late, and against her husband's wishes that she waited for the scandals to calm down, Suellen Benteen came to get back the home he had stolen from her. Yet, when she came out of his room, she was yellow with fear, trembling all over, and the injustice was not settled. She would then tell India Wilkes of her unfortunes, how Butler's eyes had been aflame, like those of a madman. How she had been molested out of the house, how the marks on her writs were the proofs of it.

Now, no one doubted he had been the one to set up the fire in the house, and killed his wife in the process, and used poor Ashley to cover his crime. Most likely, the poor lamb knew of it, because she had changed her will, and most likely under duress, had given him all she had. That's what India Wilkes said, and with the addition of that poor Suellen, they had tried to obtain justice. To no avail. The devil had his web and was vicious like a spider. It seemed he could get everything he wanted.

But not the children. Thank God, the poor little ones had been spared the misery of staying with that man.

Yet, no one really knew what to make of them (and let's not talk about these orphans that stayed with them, that disappeared when it was mentioned they'd go back to the orphanage! How ungrateful!). After all, it seemed poor Scarlett forgot to mention it in her will. Or maybe it was because, afraid as she was of her husband who had abused and beaten her, she trusted the good society of Atlanta to take care of them. Henry Hamilton offered to shelter Wade, as his great-uncle, referring to the memory of his nephew. What a good man he was, and so affectionate with the boy.

Yet, stayed Ella Lorena Kennedy, the child of Frank Kennedy, and this poor man had no family left. Suellen Benteen, sister of Scarlett and Frank's former intended, had been thought of as a caregiver. Yet, it seemed it was like putting salt over a bleeding wound, and the poor woman could not even bear to look at the child without thinking of the wrong that had been done to her. Furthermore, she and her husband were still in search of a house, the injustice of her situation not having been dealt with. So why imposing her the child?

So then the girl waited in Henry Hamilton's house, with her brother. Yet, the poor gentleman did not seem quite at ease with her. It was a sad child, without charms, and he did not like girls anyway. Wade was sad too, yet being a boy and being grown-up, he was calm and did not make a fuss. And how endearing he was, taking care of his sister, comforting her, hugging her! For the ladies, it was relieving to see, but for Henry Hamilton, it might be an unfortunate diversion from his studies.

Yet, it seemed at one time, the sadness that radiated from the children was lightened up by the hiring of a former servant of theirs. The girl was named Pansy, and she fancied reading them a story from a newspaper. It was about a girl with a French name and silly adventures that would have been better handled by a man, and who then escaped with a pirate from prison before they were separated by villains who wanted their money. And then it seemed the girl wanted to get back to her friends and family, but yet couldn't for some obscure reasons. About a peacock or an oak, apparently.

What a ludicrous tale. Yet, the children seemed particularly curious about it, asked questions after questions. And Henry Hamilton was quite uneasy with this, not knowing if it was proper for Wade to interest himself on silly stories like that.

Pansy was fired after a few days. The woman was insolent anyway.

And it was decided that Ella would go to a boarding school.

As for Rhett Butler... Who knew what that man was about to do?

*

It was a starless night Rhett had chosen for the ritual. Fitting, simple, almost poetic.

He had tried rationality. It hadn't worked. Now, he intended to try if irrationality might suit him better.

And with that, he had decided to begin with that soothsayer, who had troubled Scarlett so (and him too, though he wouldn't admit to it). What had she said to him? Oh, yes:

_You, mister, are your worst enemy. There are shadows in your past and your heart, and a cold grip that prevents you from living as freely as you would wish. You wear a mask so often you don't even know when it's on," Scarlett couldn't help but snigger at this, her hand hiding the wide opening of her mouth, though the rest of it made her stiffen and she missed his amused grin. "You think secrecy is the best way to play, but it's a wild card, the one you want. I see many who'd like to catch her. Some for charms, some for harm. Some for spite. Some for comfort. She might easily be caught in a bigger wind than expected if you don't pay attention. Keep her close, be true to her and she'll be true to you. But if you don't, if you play with her blindly, you might lose it all. Life is no gamble, sir._

Clever, actually clever. Just the right words that hit home and that could ring true no matter which event could happen.

And yet, what if it was true? What if there was indeed a way of knowing the future, a magic linking the dead to the living?

The idea had come in the few hours after that damn fire and had settled more deeply than he would have thought in his mind.

He needed her back. No matter what, he needed her back. And he would do anything for that. He would chase her down to the underworld if need be.

After all, there was maybe a truth behind all these legends and stories about ghosts. And if there was a truth, he had to investigate it. Oh no, Scarlett could not just escape him like that. He told her, he had told her that he would forgive her everything, but not the taking of her own life.

So he tracked down the circus that had settled in Marietta and hired the woman for a little séance.

With a cynicism that was his own, he told himself that he was quite out of the fashion from the Continent. It was not really original. After all, it was said Victor Hugo and his fellow writers liked to gather together to call out the spirits. And Percy Shelley and his friends, maybe. And, well, there had been the scams of these Davenport brothers, and Rhett, satisfyingly skeptical as he was, would have delighted in seeing how the fraud was organized. It was after all a way to make money, and Rhett had always been interested in all the ways, dirty or clean.

At least, that was what he told himself.

The Mausoleum, he thought. Yes, it had been a true mausoleum. He had put his love in it, thought he had buried it in it.

And now it was for Scarlett a crypt she likely did not escape.

The aching irony wasn't lost for him. Rhett felt a pang where his heart should be, but dismissed it.

Chairs and a table were settled among the ruins of the house, a farcical sight on what should have stayed a tragic landscape.

And soon the actors of this comedy settled.

He had invited who wanted to join it, for why not? He needed company in this misery. Hostile or not. Maybe more hostile than not, for it would give him a reason to fight and release this anger that was in him.

The gypsy arrived, and some curious, even India Wilkes who had a vicious glint in her eyes. Certainly, she wanted to prove him a madman. She had already tried. Or if an answer was given, she would find a way to point him as a murderer. She did not just want Twelve Oaks back. She wanted revenge, and not only revenge on himself. On Scarlett, on the world for destroying her world. And after everything that had been done, Rhett did not find it in him to be the better man. Such antagonism most likely tempted the most sadistic part of himself, and he wanted now to destroy every bit of ruins of the place, and to make her see.

Whatever price she had paid for that, Rhett had certainly paid more.

Not to mention his ploy was working quite nicely, and he did not see any reason to stop it now. Soon, he would have the heads of the ones who wanted to speculate on Tara. Someone other than Ashley Wilkes had put explosives around the house, and he had his clear ideas who might have. Oh, he couldn't wait to have him in his clutches...

His fingers tapped on the table furiously. It was taking too long.

He had promised his guests a spectacle, and he intended to give it.

"Come on, Scarlett," He cursed. " I know you can't wait to punish me. Haunt me, you insufferable harpy, I'm waiting!"

"Mr. Butler…" The gypsy said softly.

"Go on, go on!" He seethed, leaning back onto his chair. "Let's end that masquerade."

Damn Scarlett. Damn that gypsy. Damn him for wanting to believe it.

For a moment, there was nothing more. The woman rolled her eyes in a way that felt somehow familiar. Where had he seen that, before? Ah, yes. Pansy. That insolent servant, a friend of Scarlett. An idea came to him. What if they were linked? What if somehow they knew something of his wife? What if there was something he was missing?

He observed her with a frown as the Ouija board was put on the table. The gypsy let out a deep breath, almost visible with the freshness of the night. She closed her black eyes and gestured him to put his fingers with hers on the wooden triangle. India Wilkes joined, and Rhett could see the unsubtle mechanisms of her mind that were working quickly, maliciously. And then there was that of a black man, one he did not know of, had not remarked before. A guest of the gypsy, maybe.

"Spirit, are you there?"

A sudden gush of wind almost made the papers gathered for the secretary fly. The flame of the candle flickered and Rhett waited, very much aware of the alertness of every one of his nerves.

Then, the planchette moved, swiftly, as if lifted by an unknown force. Rhett, surprised, almost took back his hand, but then examined each one of the persons present.

The letters were gathered and formed almost a sentence.

"MAMA GONE."

He blinked. The black man frowned and India froze, yet, a hint of a triumphant smile came. Some went closer to the table, for the excitement was about to begin.

"Who's that ?" Rhett asked urgently.

The planchette moved.

"DADDY."

Rhett blanched. He felt the cold all over him, the numbness settling over all of his body.

"Bonnie ?" He whispered, a haggard expression on his face.

Bonnie, his Bonnie, with blue ribbons on her hair, her blue eyes gleaming with love at him. Bonnie dead, Bonnie that he had never thought he would talk to her again through such a thing, and that Miss Melly once told him that if he allowed her to be buried, she'd be happy, she'd be in heaven, wherever it was…

What the hell was she doing here?

Slowly, the planchette moved again.

"LOVE YOU DADDY"

He felt something wet on his face, but he couldn't focus on another thing than these letters.

"WAKE UP"

Then it began to go faster and faster, as if the spirit was becoming more and more agitated. The gypsy's eyes rolled in their orbits, almost white to the observers and she began to chant something Rhett could not understand. Around them, people were fidgeting uneasily, for it felt all true, all too nightmarish even for their wish to see something interesting.

"CHEST. MAMA SCARED. MAMA GONE"

"It's too fast!" The one who was writing down the letters complained. "I can't keep all of this up!"

"GIANT GOOD GIANT SHADOW MAN HERE FRIEND MAMA GONE MAMA GONE"

The words went on and on, always the same, and some cried with pain as it seemed it wouldn't stop.

Filled with overpowering helplessness, Rhett raised abruptly and with a snarl pushed the table. It felt back with a bang and the light went out.

"GET OUT!" He screamed. "ALL OF YOU!"

They all stared at him, horrified. All but that woman, who was only looking at him with pity in her eyes.

There was one missing though.

He watched all of them go, even India who looked back one last time before following the others. He caught the gypsy before she left the scene.

"You. You stay."

He gestured her to follow him, then led her to the former stables.

He examined her, but the woman did not even blink. She looked calm, as if she just went out of a tea party, and that unsettled him.

"What game are you playing?" He hissed.

"I play no game," She replied quietly, her hands gathered in front of her. "What game are _you_ playing?"

He cursed and stamped his foot, a deep feeling of frustration rushing through his veins. He stared at the distance, recalling. Then sighed.

"I never thought I would talk one day to Bonnie," He said. "True or false… Thank you."

Seeing that 'daddy', and the feelings attached to it had had a soothing effect on him, and he understood now why people paid millions to hear these words. Daddy, I love you. A confirmation of feelings that brought comfort to the grieving.

The woman nodded. "I only did my work. I only served as a canal to the spirits that were here."

So she truly believed in it, uh? He shook his head. Now was not the time to question the beliefs of others.

He felt unrest, and doubts nagging at him.

"So, she's not at peace?"

"No, she's not. Just like many others."

His hands clenched and he wanted to cry, yet he refrained from it. No, he wouldn't. He couldn't. Anger was acceptable. A brief moment of superstition, why not? But this? No. No. It couldn't be!

He bit his lower lip.

"What did you say to my wife?... That day at the circus?"

The old gypsy looked at him closely.

"That fire was in her future. And that death might be the only way out."

His shoulders fell. He felt as if someone had knocked him over.

The woman said nothing, and he asked nothing more. He nodded, then went back to the Hotel and drank, hoping for oblivion. Or death, maybe. Whatever could help. Everything but the memories that were nagging him.

Forget it all. Oh, yes, it would be sweet...

Forget the days with Scarlett, the hope, the love. The passion of their embraces, the power they had on the other.

A power that was still there. A presence, a feeling that was bringing him slowly to his knees.

Somehow, he still lived with that presence every day. Sometimes it took the form of the scent of her perfume in the morning, flowery and earthy on the pillow beside him.

Sometimes, it was the shape of her shadow that he thought he'd seen near his bedside, watching over him. The sensation of a touch, a kiss maybe, light and sweet on his forehead, as if to soothe the wrinkles that had settled there.

That fire, and the loss that followed… He took another sip.

It had broken a rhythm in his life he had been unaware of, left a hole so deep he thought his heart had been ripped from his body. And now, he was barely half alive, hoping for something he knew seemed impossible, and that was contrary to his usually pragmatic mind.

"Oh, Scarlett…"

He said it, and then the tears could not be stopped. But, drunk as he was, he was not aware of it. His misplaced, mannish pride was forgotten, leaving only the grief.

There was no ritual here, in this room, but the plea he could utter himself. The apology, the love he was searching for, it was all here, like a river that he had tried to stop with a solid dam. And now, in his drunken state, the dam could not hold it all, and it was flowing free.

"I've been a fool, taking you for granted, when I should have shown you how deep my love runs. I have wanted for so long for you to love me, and when you did, fool that I was, I did as if it was my due, and that you'll stay that way without me having to give anything in return… I was afraid of you, of myself, and I gave myself excuses not to let you in… But I want you in! Oh, my baby, I do want you!"

It hurt in his chest, like a knife stabbing on his lungs, his belly, and his heart. He was left agonizing, begging for mercy.

"Please… Don't leave me alone with a bleeding heart and an unfinished story…"

He paused, blinked. The wind was chilling his nose and cheeks, whistling a broken song through the curtains of the opened window.

A sad laugh came to him. "Was that what you felt, Scarlett, when I left? Is it a way to take revenge on me? Well, you've succeeded… I've tried everything. I've tried to find you, in every corner I could. I've tried to raise you high, an icon that they did not deserve. I've tried to hate you, and I'm sure I almost did. But forget you? How can I? You are with me, but I cannot touch you! I hear you, but I cannot see you! It is a feeling, stuck on my bones, telling me I should be by your side, but how can I when I cannot find you?"

He leaned back, joined his hands almost in prayer, his bright eyes on the ceiling.

"I've learned my lesson… Now, come back… Come back, my darling…. I'll do anything…"

Yet no one answered him.

So he crouched back and gathered all the darkness around him like a blanket.

Days came and went, always the same to Rhett Butler. Or, at least, to the shell of a man he had become.

There were moments when he seemed aware of the slumber he was in, moments when he deeply hated himself, when he cursed at the world. When he screamed for Scarlett to come back to him.

These moments were the worst. So he drank some more.

She had said he always left her. Oh, no, he wouldn't think of the words she had said that morning. They were already deeply carved into him, and he had read them too many times.

Yes, he would leave. It would be his final leave. He would not go back. He could not.

He went to the station and waited. His eyes were on the rails, filled with a dangerous light. He felt the wind on his face, a chill that made him feel nothing for he already felt the cold inside.

Would he feel more alive, like that? He wondered. One step too much, and it'd be over. A coward's move, certainly. At least, that was how he had seen it, when he was young and careless. Yet, if he could see her again…

How far could he go to follow her? That question had once been terrifying for him. But now, he knew the answer. And this time, he did not fear.

"Uncle Rhett!"

Unwillingly, his head turned and he looked, crossing green orbs that glinted back at him, ears catching the sounds of hurried footsteps running towards him.

Oh no, not these eyes!

Yet, when he looked back, he was faced with relief, mixed with a little disappointment that he managed not to show. It was not the exact shape, nor the exact same shade. It was not as deep, not as mischievous. No golden fishes lurking in there, just the innocence of a child.

It was Scarlett's girl, their… No. Not their.

What was she doing there?

She fell, but caught herself to his legs, which she hugged in a frantic embrace.

"Don't let me go back," She whispered tearfully. "Don't let me…"

Trembling, he pushed her off him, keeping her at bay with his hands.

He couldn't. No, he had no right of it.

Yet, the girl relented.

"They're going to send me to a boarding school!" She cried. "They said that when it'd be a perfect lady, I would be allowed to come back. But I don't want to go! And I don't want to be like them! They are not nice, and they don't like me! They're not like… Aunt Melly! And Mama… oh, I want Mama back! Why don't you find her?"

He stared at her with dull eyes.

"Why didn't you want us?" She insisted with tears gathering at the end of her clear lashes, soon to be falling down her cheeks.

A hand was put on her shoulder.

"Come on, Ella, it's no use." Scarlett's boy. _Their_ … No, he wouldn't think about that.

Yet, Scarlett's daughter struggled under her brother's grip. And in these eyes, he recognized the same expression of despair he had seen in her mother, the day he announced her coldly at the jail that she had done everything for nothing. The same attempt to grasp some hope, to fight back the helplessness before it ate her.

No, don't look at me with these eyes, he wanted to cry. All, but not that.

"Aunt Sue said you were a bad man, that you… But you didn't! No, you didn't! And mama…."

"Come on, Ella, go to your place," Wade hushed.

"But… Billy! Caroline! They are still at Tara, with Prissy! And my cat… They wouldn't let me take my cat! They said they would send Billy and Caroline away!"

"Come on, child," Henry Hamilton berated as he joined them, a disapproving frown on his face. He was red from running after the children, surprised at such an effrontery when minutes ago, they were blissfully silent. With a gesture, he indicated his servant to take care of the girl, who struggled against his grip, still crying for him. Rhett stayed silent, stone cold. Numb.

"Mr. Butler," Henry bowed slightly in a wary salute. He felt a sudden surge of guilt coming to him, yet he knew what he had done was right. The custody was on his desk. He was safe. That man could do nothing against him, he did not know anything. And, seeing him, he certainly wasn't able to. Still, the feeling did not disappear. With a snap, he turned towards his nephew, who was pale, radiating with nervous energy. "Wade, boy, come with me."

"A moment, Uncle," Scarlett's boy said with a firmness that surprised his kin by blood, but not Rhett. "I need to say my goodbye."

Henry Hamilton hesitated. Yet, something in him, an understanding maybe, was stirred by the resolution in the boy. He nodded, satisfied to have a little man for a nephew, which would make it easier. He did not know how to act with children, so this was very fine with him. He nodded, then let them alone, while staring at them in a distance.

Rhett felt uneasiness in him, the surging of a feeling when he wanted blankness and silence.

A question raised in him, but he did not dare to ponder on it. It was too painful and then… Hadn't Scarlett trusted him? Hadn't she said so in her letter? Then why…

No, he couldn't let the boy talk. He did not want to hear it.

"Wade…" He tried.

The boy's hand clenched, his eyes filled with anger and sorrow.

"You promised us… you promised me! You've said… for what it meant to be, there will always be a way… "

"Wade, I can't…"

"You've told me you'd stay with us! And you know Mother would have wanted us to stay together, and for us to be with you!"

He looked closely at Rhett, at that shell of a man, at the moment devoid of the malice people had attributed to him. He had known for a long time that his stepfather was not the nicest of men when he was unhappy. Yet, when he was, how good the moments had been, how generous, how inspiring, and caring he was! Wade had the image of a strong man, one able to do anything for the ones he loved.

That image had suffered when he left his mother, and time and time again made her unhappy. It had put Wade in the position of the man of the house, a place he had taken in his worry for his mother, and because somehow it gave him the impression he was in control of a situation he did not understand. Yet when Uncle Rhett had returned, there had been hope, strong hope.

And now, what was there to seek, with everyone so far from each other, Mother gone, her husband giving up on them? What would happen to Ella, that Aunt Sue refused to keep, saying she had no place left and that Uncle Henry said with uneasiness that it would be better for her to go to a boarding school? What would happen to him, and how would he be able to keep up with his Mother's wishes while being so restrained and uncertain?

There was no certainty to be found in that man, and that was what unsettled Wade the most.

He feared to hope again and be disappointed.

Once again, he would have to work on his own.

He was a man, now, and he was his Mother's son. He would make her proud.

"Your promises mean nothing, ser. Goodbye."

With the words of a boy, Rhett felt a crack in him, like a mirror breaking. His vision blurred at the brown coat of the child as he turned away.

At a distance, the train gave out his last siren. Siren, like those he heard when the house went on fire… Scarlett…

A voice raised, that of the little girl he was leaving behind.

"DADDY!"

A piece of his heart awakened. He turned his head.

Yet, it was too late. The train had already departed. Wade and his great-uncle were gone.

At least, it _seemed_ so. A dim, thin light came back to his eyes, and he turned back.


	29. Chapter 29

Randall Jones had generally been moderately lucky in his life. Not too much, but not too little. Second son of an impoverished plantation owner, he had learned some tricks, whether with a whip or with a pair of cards. His first marriage had been for money, his second for pleasure. The wench had chosen to stay behind when pleasure wasn’t everything that would happen in their lives. Well, her loss. A man had to make some money. And money was quicker to get when it was gotten with dirty hands. Every gentleman knew that, yet only very few of them would accept it. He was one of them and determined not to be left out. 

Tonight was such an occasion. He had been losing for quite a few turns, yet he knew soon would be his lucky strike.

His hands ran through his pocket, searching, before gripping. He froze for a while, hesitating, before putting the earbob on the table. Its emerald winked at him as a green fairy wishing him good luck. He smiled.

Black eyes glinted maliciously. Green with envy. Blue with an affected disinterest that hid greed. 

The game continued. And he won. As he expected. With a smile, Randall took back every bit of money and left with a smile and the beginning of a whistle. 

He was well-satisfied with himself. For his last days here, it wasn’t so bad. Soon, he’ll be on his way to Jonesboro with the others. The promise of a fortune, a fortune that seemed not enough for four.

Well, that could be changed. People died a lot, these days. Anything could happen. 

With that in mind, Randall felt giddy and confident. There were stars, bright on the sky, for him. And it was only beginning. Maybe he could get one of these girls, from Belle’s former whorehouse. It hadn’t been quite decided what would happen to them for the moment. Surely, they were in need of money and would be quite agreeable. 

In his pocket, he gripped the earbob. 

It had brought him chance, actually. It had made him prove his loyalty, he, the newcomer in this venture. It could have been a disaster, with him being knocked down by that stupid woman, but he had managed to turn it to his advantage. And now, since he had it on him, he felt invincible, almost untouchable. 

Why, he felt almost like Rhett Butler now! Though Rhett Butler at the peak of his glory. The man today did not seem that well in that aspect. Some whispered he was demented. The more for him. It was time for new people to come replace the old. After all, it was the order of things. Adrian was just too wary for his own good. 

Randall whistled some more, and then someone answered his tune. He turned, curious, to the direction of it, and almost laughed. 

Well, he knew better than to go to a dark empty alley. The trick was too vulgar for him.

Yet, who could use it one him and think he would be caught? 

Picked by this, he went closer, the taste of rum giving him some daring. He called out at the black figure before him and jeered. The streets were empty, no one would hear that insolent man cry. No one would see. He had no gun on him, he had left it at the inn. Yet he had his fists. He would not let himself be insulted like that. 

Randall squinted his eyes, trying to see better. That was the black-eyed man. 

He seemed familiar, somehow. But actually, it wasn’t that surprising. Everyone seemed familiar after a few drinks of liquor. He shrugged. 

“Are you such a sore loser, man, to follow me like that?”

A sharp laugh answered him. Then a cold, hard voice. 

“Tell me, Randall, just how many men does it take to put explosives around a house?”

Randall froze, then took a step backward, a doubt coming to him. He shivered. 

“What…”

“Your friend Jordan said no one, but I’m sure you have a much better answer.”

The sandy-haired man blinked, cold sweat on his skin, flowing with a torturous pace all over him. 

“You are…”

“Visibly not enough, for a madman was needed to light it up,” The man stepped to the light, and the silver of his gun gleamed at him like a silent threat. “Or did Adrian become a coward?”

Sobered, Randall felt his knees shaking, before they gave up on him, and he felt the sting harshly.

“You are…”

“Who am I?” The man taunted. “Why, you seemed much braver a few seconds ago.”

Randall gulped. There was no light in these black eyes, no mercy to be found. 

“Rhett Butler…”

“That’s right. And you know why I’m here, certainly.”

A light of recognition came to his brain. 

“The fire… “

A hint of white teeth was shown, a sharp contrast with the swarthy dark skin. 

“Oh, you’re smarter than you look. That’s right. You’ve been messing with the wrong house. Now, all your little friends are going to pay. Every. One. Of. Them.”

Randall’s teeth were painfully rattling. He had to find a way out. Something that would make him pause.

“You’ll hang for that!”

“Oh, that’s sweet…” Rhett Butler mused. “You seem to believe I care.”

An easy prey, that’s what he was, he thought. Caught too easily, with an exaggerated bravado that did not survive at the first hint of threat. 

Swiftly, Rhett pulled Randall’s hair who cried in pain and met his eyes, before whispering in his ear. “I don’t.”

“It was Olsen and Adrian’s idea!” Randall cried finally. “They asked me to look after the plans, and then I was knocked down! When I regained consciousness, the plans were gone, and there was that earring near my head! Hugh… He’s the one that said it was her, and that she was working against us… So he said it was better to find a way to shut her up. And then… Adrian said, it’s a vixen, and how do we deal with vixens that hid in their lair?...”

Actually, it was him that had said that, but it wouldn’t serve him with that man. Yet, his hair was pulled harder and he cried.

Oh, Scarlett, Rhett thought. You’ve been in quite a mess. Adrian’s little gang was a lot to handle, far more than could ever have been the one she had joined. They did not stop for women and children, though Randall, as a new addition was an odd thing. He had always seemed too soft, too picky for that. But maybe not. Maybe not…

He understood now better what was in her head that night, the flush on her cheeks and the urgency in her eyes. 

He twisted the hair in his hand. The man cried out once more. 

Randall sobbed. “I did not want it, no sir, it was too queer for me! We waited for you to get out, for we knew…”

“That I’d be harder to defeat, right?” 

The sandy-haired man wept and nodded, as if that could change anything.

“And then they killed one of your men, and I thought it was enough! And then came a darkie with a red-haired giant…”

Red-haired? No, it couldn’t be…

An idea came to his mind, crazy and persistent. Yet, he could not entertain it, for it was a hope that would kill him if reality crushed it. Not now, when there were so many things to do. Not before he could avenge her. He could not, he would not think of it. 

Yet, the man continued.

“We fought, and then we hit one of them. The other ran. But then… there were people that were gathering, so we had to go… And then… minutes after, there was the explosion… But we did not know who lighted it, I swear it!”

He pulled once again, pressed the gun to the temple.

“Had Richard known anything about it?”

The man shook his head, and he was disgusting with all that sweat coming out of him. 

“No-o… He was unconscious all the time, and we did not see him, sir!”

“And then?”

Randall blinked another tear. “And then what? I’ve said everything that I knew! Oh… Well, not all,” He added as Rhett pulled his hair once more. “We’re supposed to meet at Jonesboro. And try to find someone to guide us here.”

Rhett let go and Randall sighed in relief. He let out a sharp breath of air.

Yet, the gun was still on his temple. 

“You’re… I thought if I talked…”

“Did I say anything about it?” He smiled with a cruelty he had not felt for quite a long time. A cruelty that felt right this time, more than deserved. “You know, I’ve always known when somebody lied to me. And you did, by saying you haven’t done anything and you did not want this. Sad thing is, it happened, and now it’s your time to pay. Goodnight, Randall. Say hello to the devil underneath.”

And then, the trigger was pulled, and it was done. Silently, Rhett considered the scene, blew softly on the powder, until it stuck on Randall’s wet palm and put the gun in the man’s hand. The other was still gripping that damn earbob, the proof he needed to be sure the man had been involved in all this. 

Well, he could keep that piece. It wasn’t worth anything without the woman wearing it. 

“Tsk. Such a lack of gumption.”

What a waste of time. He had wished for a little resistance, a fight. Everything that could erase the lethargy that was threatening to come back to his mind. But here, nothing. How disappointing. 

He took another way, taking the night as his mantle to hide himself, and went back to the ruins of his house. Most of the walls had survived, though some seemed to be falling at any moment. At least, it wasn’t in wood, like those plantations he had suggested her at first, he mused. A Swiss Chalet, she wanted. Red stone and grey shingle. 

He wandered through it, the hall where Bonnie would greet him, that big room with the floor formerly covered with thick red carpeting, and the stairs where Scarlett had fallen and almost died. The stairs where she threw away her rings to him, and bared her heart one last time…

It was at the end of it he had found the wedding ring back. A hint of gold, near a tiny glitter of what should have been the engagement one, who had not resisted the fire. He had blown on it, and the glitter had disappeared. The gold had been affected, yet it had survived. 

Then, he had heard her whisper, and he thought he had been going crazy. 

He sighed, then kneeled down, weary. 

“Two gone, Scarlett. Four left. Then I’ll come to you, my darling…”

Adrian, Olsen. That Scot man who did not stay in place. And that black man, so allusive, slipping through the fingers like sand. 

He put his hands on the ashes and swore it. 

“Where are you, my love?” He whispered painfully. “Are you hiding from me?”

He waited for a time, but nothing answered him. He was beginning to be used to that intolerable silence. 

He shook his head. No, she could not hear him anymore, and he had to live with that for the rest of his life. It was foolish, this belief that would not leave him. He could not find her anymore. It was his sick, deprived mind that was playing tricks on him.

He went back to the hotel and cleaned himself. But he still felt dirty. So he went down again and ordered a drink at the counter. 

He took a sip, trying to ignore the presence that had come by his side after a few minutes. His ears waited for the demand, yet it wouldn’t come. He sighed, put down his drink.

“You’re going to ask me Tara back, aren’t you?”

After a time, Will Benteen answered.

“No. You’ll give it back soon enough, once you realize you’ll not find what you’re searching for.”

Rhett shook his head, almost amused. 

“And what is it, that I am searching for?”

The Cracker man met his eyes quietly. “Her.”

It sobered him. So Rhett gulped his drink down and ordered another. 

“Such different women, the sisters O’Hara. Always picking a fight, like dogs and cats. Always bringing the worst in the others when they were together. And yet, it is her that Suellen is crying for, even if she would not admit to it,” Will continued, before sighing. “How strange it is, to think of her as dead.”

Rhett gripped his new glass. 

“Don’t.”

“No, I feel you need to hear it,” Will insisted. “It might hurt now, but if you don’t talk about it, you’ll be but half a man, chasing a shadow that has not the same shape as the original anymore.”

Rhett wanted to throw the glass at him. How dare he talk to him like that? Couldn’t he see he wasn’t in the mood for such thing? Couldn’t he sense how dangerous he was tonight?

“I still remember the days at Tara, when she was the one to order everyone around…”

Visibly not. Yet, that last part put a nostalgic smile on his lips.

“She always liked to do so.”

“And it was deeply needed. It was… but a house with no true foundation, and it seemed she became it, so much that without her, I doubt we would have survived.”

“She bloomed in such adversities. I always knew that.”

Will nodded, his head lowered to his own drink, as if considering. 

“Knowing is not seeing, though I do believe in all these years you’ve seen how strong she is… was,” Will paused. “I was… that kind of man, a Cracker, disabled, visibly no use for anyone. And still, she took me in. Very begrudgingly, that’s for sure,” He chuckled. “She was not really soothing. Careen was. Careen was… a light in the dark. Bright… Bringer of hopes…” He looked at a distance, then continued. “Yet, I could see Scarlett was strong, and she was holding everything together. These things at Tara… It either breaks relationships or strengthens them. Breaks people or strengthens them. She _inspired_ me, without knowing, to go on, and help.”

“You sound as if you were in love with her.”

It sounded too much like an accusation, yet Rhett could not help it. 

Will looked at him, bewildered, then laughed. “No, sir. Admirative, only. I always knew she was not for me. She’s a woman that runs, and I knew I could never keep up.”

At least, that man had some sense of humor. 

“You certainly saw Ashley.”

“I saw Ashley. And I knew he was not for her either. But I could understand it. Strength without belief is a terrible thing, and I could see she needed something to believe in. I’ve heard they were childhood friends.”

“Yes.”

“Must have been hard for you.”

“You have no idea.”

In the background, some people laughed at a beggar that had managed to slip in the hotel, one of the employees trying and failing to bring him out. 

And yet, Will would continue. 

“I remember her with that green dress. I remember thinking: ‘this woman is going to a war on her own, to make us survive, and she’s not going to stop until she saved us’” He snorted. “Ashley said he had not seen anything so gallant. He acted as if I did not understand. Yet, I did. Perhaps even more than him, who thought he was the one that had brought her to this. Tara… It was like her life source. She might have said she did not want this, or wanted to escape it, but it was her roots.”

Yes, she had said so to him, now Rhett remembered. Tara…

“You see a lot of things, don’t you?”

“When you can’t act like you want to, you learn to listen and see. I had no other choice,” Will shrugged. “I’m sure you did not think in such a way when you saw her. Else it would have been you she would have brought.”

“I could not access money at that time. And…” He sighed. “Even if I had, I wouldn’t have, not at that moment. I was too hurt to see how desperate she was, and I thought, ‘Well, she’s doing it for Ashley. I’m not risking it for that.’ I guess I wasn’t that much smarter than that man, then.”

“Is that why you made him go to that asylum?”

His black eyes burned threateningly as he answered.

“He went because he is sick and should be taken care of. He’s a burden for society.”

“He’s a man that needed care…”

Rhett snapped.

“He’s the shadow in my marriage and the one that lit the explosives around my house. You can’t expect me to pity him.”

“I don’t. Yet, he’s not the only problem, is he?”

With a sigh, Rhett leaned back and turned the liquid in his glass clockwise, looking at the maelstrom it brought. “No, I guess he’s not.”

“So what are you going to do about it?” There was almost defiance in the man’s tone. “Take revenge on anyone, until there’s only you, or are you going to be brave enough to live?”

Rhett paused, considering. In his heart was a cry that he wanted to ignore, but the more he ignored it, the louder it seemed. He sighed.

“You’re a wise man, Will Benteen. I wish I had known it before.”

“I was forced to. One cannot get everything they desire. One has to make it with what they have. It’s not always easy, but it’s also a source of happiness.”

“I used to have a similar philosophy.”

“Then what made you change?”

Fear. Urgency. Despair. He wanted it all, and he wanted it fast. 

He did not answer, yet it seemed no answer was needed. Will nodded as if he understood, then took another sip of his ale, before

“And… about the children?”

Rhett’s shoulders tensed. 

“I do not have their custody. I can’t just take them away. It wouldn’t work in the long term.”

“It surprises me. Scarlett was not a woman to see in the long term. Yet, from what I’ve understood, she made her will recently. For her not to mention the children is unusual. I knew she wasn’t the tenderest mother, yet… It is quite odd, that there’s no mention of it.”

Rhett took a sip of his drink. He thought about it too. Yet, what could he do? What would be possible for him to…

“Daddy…” A little hand pulled at Will’s sleeve. “Mummy has stopped crying. She’s calling for you.”

“Thank you, Susie, I’ll come. You can return to your sisters, now,” He turned towards Rhett and put his hand before him to shake. “Till next time?”

Rhett looked at him, then nodded and took it. “Till next time.”

And there, the man smiled at him, and he felt a kindred. As if he had made a friend. 

And maybe it was the case. He had never discussed such things with someone else before. At least, someone that wasn’t Scarlett. It felt intimate, perhaps too much for his sake, and he did not like such a vulnerability being shown.

Perhaps another time, he thought as he raised softly and went to his room. And perhaps, the next time, it would be Will telling him his problems with his own wife.

What a pair they would make, he mused with a sardonic smile. The disabled Cracker and the Devil of Atlanta. It would have taken the loss of Scarlett for him to make a male friend, at least one that seemed true. 

Scarlett would have certainly delighted in that, thinking it was because of her. 

Oh, Scarlett… He’d throw anything away just to see her bright eyes on him again. To see these dimples on her cheeks when she smiled, the tiny porcelain white teeth that shined against her naturally red lips. 

He needed to put it on paper. Or else, he would be driven mad by it. 

The feeling of her against him, her tiny shape, yet that fitted him so well for it urged him to hold her close to his heart. The dark silk of her hair, scented with magnolia and rosewater, and so much more that he could not quite identify, other than with the word ‘belonging’. Her eyes, attractively slanted with these clear green orbs and these lights that danced in it..

He looked at the paper, stopped the frenzy of his pencil. The image before him was not enough. Not nearly enough.

There was no escaping Scarlett O’Hara. He had tried many times. And it was excruciatingly painful that she had succeeded in escaping him. 

_“In the end, I became so much more…_

Oh, he never doubted that. 

_You wanted the whip, and you wanted me to show my back to it! But I’ll survive. I always do. This time I’ll be the one that got away, not you. This is the end of my story. No reunion of great love, for that has never been what you sought, no moping around for the woman while the man becomes a triumphant martyr. Now, it’s over, and I’d sooner burn to Halifax, and the whole house with me, than see your lying face again!_

Oh beloved, no, please don’t! He wanted to cry. I love you. It doesn’t interest me anymore, it had never brought me anything, to try to whip you. I wanted you tame, and I wanted you free, with me. However I forgot I wasn’t tamed myself, and refusing it too. I should have known that I couldn’t force it out of you. It did not give me you…

Yet, these thoughts would not bring her back. 

_What do you want?_

He wanted her. He needed her. Oh, if only he had managed to let go of his fears! If only they had set everything aside and admitted to it! If only, lost in his insecurities, he had not wanted to push her to ask him to escape with him! If only she had not put the divorce papers before him!

Now, he could see clearly she had been trying to make him stay as well. And that was certainly the hardest thing. For it once again proved him right, in the cruelest way possible: they were so alike! So alike that they had tried over and over at the same time to urge the other to do their biddings, thus putting them at odds for they did not want to be the one making the first step!

_Is my love not enough for you to stay and reach out to me?_

He shook his head. No. He was wrong, at one point at least. She had made these steps. Yet at the last moment, he had retracted and mocked her for it. All that because he had been afraid it had been a trick.

_If we ever missed each other again…_

He almost choked in a bitter laugh. 

_No matter what, I want you to know that I love you, and I know you love me. I know you love my children, our children. You’ve seen them grow, they are more yours than they ever were their fathers’. You’ve cared for them, seen them grow. In Wade, there is this firmness, this intellectual curiosity, that are not mine, but yours. In Ella, there’s this soothing side that is yours in part, though I’m sorry to tell you the other (and bigger) part is Melly’s . So don’t get too cocky about my saying so many compliments!_

Oh, he never did… He never had the time. It had always seemed like a war, life with her, yet how the moments of peace were sweet! War staged by her, staged by him, all because of fears, hers, his, and ghosts that should never have come between them. They had been seconds from pure happiness, a true understanding. And for what, now? An empty tomb, ruins of an already broken house, Wade and Ella being set apart, and he all alone, with a hole in his chest? 

Was that what she had wanted? Was that what he had wanted?

He took the bottle. Then put it back. In his heart, another cry was heard. 

Scarlett’s children. Their children. 

The face of a boy, with usually soft brown eyes, here bright with distress, and a hope that was fading.

_“You’ve told me you’d stay with us! And you know Mother would have wanted us to stay together, and for us to be with you!”_

_They need you_ , the voice of Scarlett said softly. When had she said that? He couldn’t seem to remember.

 _I need them_ , he thought. _I need my children. I need my family. The ones I’ve chosen for myself. For Scarlett. For the children. For me._

He would get them back. There couldn’t be nothing from Scarlett about it…

_… I want you to know that, no matter what… I will never stop you from seeing them. How could I? They need you._

There couldn’t be nothing about the custody. Scarlett would not have let nothing about it. Not after writing such a letter.

Oh, that was a terrible time. Four men were left. But if he waited too long, he gave also more time for his enemies to strike. For the moments, they stayed low, mostly undetectable. He needed them to act.

Baits… Yes, he needed baits. Without anything to loose, he was a fearsome figure, seemingly untouchable. But if he seemed less so… They would make mistakes. 

Scarlett wouldn’t like that. He did not like that either. But Scarlett wasn’t here. And he knew what he was doing.

He paused in the dark, gathered his thoughts, and built his plans. Then he decided to act. And swiftly.

He took advantage of one day Henry Hamilton was away and slipped in his office, pretexting a meeting to his new secretary, who let him wait foolishly in it. At least, not as foolishly as he took the tip that was offered.

By God, if only he had met such a secretary during the War, Rhett thought, amused, he would certainly have been able to make more money. Some just tended to underestimate all the secrets that could be in the desk of a lawyer.

Rhett waited until the door was closed behind him, then rummaged through the desk, until finally he found it. 

There it was. His hands almost shook with apprehension. He could almost laugh at it. It was like Henry Hamilton had wanted it to be found!

Maybe the sign of some hidden guilt. But no matter what, Rhett did not care as he read it. 

Yes, that was what he thought, his heart beating with the appreciation of his new role, and the trust that had been placed in him. A sudden relief came to him. Yes, she had trusted him that much. She had loved him that much.

And he had almost let her down for that.

But not anymore. 

He took the custody and put it in his satchel. Then he took care to rearrange the desk as before. The secretary watched him leave, uninterested. 

He could get the boy now, the closest at the moment. But the boy would not follow him without the girl. 

He went to the station with some of his men and left. 

First stop to Fayetteville. To the boarding school for girls. 

He looked at the building, almost hesitant, then went to get his girl. He called the tenant and demanded to see Ella. 

His tone was so strong, so self-assured, that none dared questioning him. After all, he had only asked to see the girl… And who was she, that girl, by the way? An orphan that did not seem very talented, unremarkable among the others. Eyes a little too close, short nose and thin lips. And certainly too little for her age. But after all, it was said her mother was a drunkard and had killed her husband. So who could be surprised these sins marked the child so?

Yet, to the persons that were here to witness the scene, it was strange to see such a man, imposing and strong, await with nervous energy such a charmless urchin. 

The custody was in his satchel, he had all the information now.

His will was stronger now that he was there, and when finally the teacher went back with Ella, his heart melted, filled with a love that he had underestimated the extent. Her green eyes, like her mother, but softer, innocent, widened and she blinked, as if not believing it. 

“D… Uncle Rhett !”

He smiled encouragingly, his chest threatening to burst, and opened his arms for the girl to jump in.

“Come to daddy, my girl. We’re going home.”

“Mr. Butler, that is not to be born, I’ll call…” The tenant, alerted by the cries, intervened. 

“And you’re going to stop me?” He laughed and raised, the girl put indecently on his shoulders. She squealed in delight and put her arms around him. “The girl goes with me. For I am her father.”

“Her father?” She blinked. “No, you…”

He laughed. “I dare you to prove I’m wrong. I can get the papers more quickly than you can call that unfortunate Mister Hamilton.”

And anyway, there was no one to stop him. With her in his arms, he felt stronger, closer to the man he had been before everything went down. 

And well, there was still his employees by his side. Quite difficult to say no faced with such arguments, he thought cynically.

He turned away and left, smiling at her silly talking, and finding himself replying with some of his own.

Oh, he had almost forgotten how it tasted like, to be a father. And now, it was so suddenly back that he felt the rush of it, like a sweet on his tongue. 

Yet, after some time, he felt the girl shifting uneasily when finally the boarding school was out of sight. Gone was the happy babbling, and now there was a silence filled of questions that begged to be answered. 

With a sigh, he let her down and raised her chin toward him.

She bit her lip, before finally finding the courage to say it. 

“Is it true?” Ella raised her bright eyes towards him, confused, but with an hopeful light that made him bite his lip. “You’re my real dad?”

He sighed. He was tempted to say yes, but the ghost of Frank Kennedy wasn’t one he could really bear. It awakened a slight guilt he thought long buried, a day when he had asked himself… 

But that was over. He did not need to live with that.

“Not your dad by blood, sweet girl,” _though I wish I was_. “But sometimes, the links of the heart are stronger than blood. The one who fathered you is named Frank Kennedy, and he loved you. But you’re the daughter I choose, and I love you too. Do you understand it?”

She nodded hesitantly.

“I think so. But I thought… after Bonnie… You did not want me anymore.”

He ruffled her red hair, a pang of guilt in his gut. He crouched at her side, putting his hands on her shoulders to keep her attention. It was difficult to talk, the image of his Bonnie Blue like a hand crushing his throat. Yet, he knew he had to reassure that little girl, that was dear to him as well.

“Listen to me, sweet-heart. I loved Bonnie. So, so much. It doesn’t mean I do not want you. I will always want you. And I’m very sorry if I wasn’t able to make you feel that during the times we were together. But… If you could give me another chance… I promise I would be the father you deserve. I’ll take care of you, I…”

He could not continue, for the little girl had escaped his grip and jumped into his arms, her arms around his neck. He thought his heart stopped for a moment.

“Of course, I do, silly!” She cried, and he felt her tears on his neck as she buried her face against him. “You’re the only daddy I ever had! There’s no one else I want to stay with.”

He smiled, and refrained from crying. 

“I won’t let you down. Not anymore.”

And he meant it. 

“You’re going to get us all back together, right?”

“Yes, Wade will come with us.”

She seemed about to say something, but then she stopped, her face distorted in a conflict that she did not seem to know how to explain.

“What is it, Ella?” He asked. “Do you doubt I can do it?”

“No!” She shook her head vehemently. “You can do anything!”

A roar of laughter escaped his lips, and he felt strangely relieved by this.

And so they went, and he settled her quite comfortably in his room when they reached Atlanta. Pork cried when he saw her back, and welcomed her quite enthusiastically. It was a touching scene to see, and Rhett let them at the hotel, warmed by it. 

And then he went to surprise Henry Hamilton. 

The man did not even seem surprised as he saw him in his office, waiting on his chair. He had been waiting for it, since the very day he decided to take the custody. Somehow, it felt easier to breathe now, with not that secret on him alone and the dishonest appearance it had. 

Sharply, Henry Hamilton looked at Rhett Butler and judged. He needed to be the rational one. It was the best for him, the best for Wade. 

And, well, he hoped Rhett would be as manageable as the day of the funerals. Though he very much doubted it. 

At least, he did not seem angry. Which was quite queer, actually.

“You’ve taken the girl on your own, sir. That was highly inappropriate.”

“And what about you, Hamilton?” Rhett jeered lightly, playing with a ruler that was straying in the desk. “You had no right to decide on your own. And I thought you were a man of honor. A man of the Law. My, my. What a shame.”

The old man winced and looked away.

“Not my best move, maybe. But I did what I thought was right. It is my great-nephew’s welfare we are talking about.”

Reasonable enough. Now that he was more level-headed, Rhett could see it, even if it hurt. He had been a wreck, determinate to hate and be hated by everyone. A scene came before him, and he smiled wistfully. Scarlett trying to join him after another of these moments, when he had mocked over and over the Cause and the ones who believed in it.

She had wanted to come for him, he had thought at that moment. And now he did not doubt it.

And Wade, and Ella, who had always looked up to him…

He tapped on the desk with the ruler and continued. Hamilton would never be swayed by feelings, for he would find himself lacking, in a vulnerable state that he would not accept. Yet, reason could be the way.

“And he’ll be well-cared for. As my son, he’ll inherit all my properties, along with his mother’s, and the few things your nephew kept for him. As a practical and reasonable man, I’m sure you’ll see the advantage.”

There, he had hit a good point, Rhett could see that. The man was hesitating.

“And where would you go? You’re not accepted anymore in Atlanta.”

“Well, it seems I have a bit of unexpected land near Jonesboro, after all… I’m sure the boy would like to live where his mother grew up.”

Tara… Yes, they needed to go to Tara. To see the place where she was born, where she grew up. The place she fought for. The place she gave to him, a last undeniable proof of love. Would it have her essence? Would he find the shadow of her frame here, waiting for him? 

Just like Scarlett to find the loop in a contract, or to overlook it completely, he could not help but think. She never played by his rules if she could do differently. And made sure to defy it when he produced the ban before her.

A wild card, indeed.

But if he could only get closer… If he could see with his own eyes… Maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. Maybe the thought of her wouldn’t have such a aching grip on his heart, and he would be able to go on. Not moving on from here, for there not such option to consider for him. But at least he could live, and care for these children he loved, these children that were hers and that were his, not quite the products of their love, but love all the same. The children who had seen them both in their greatest moments and their worst, and still… Ella had accepted him, unconditionally. But Wade? The boy had grown up, and had been a direct witness to some of his cruelties against his mother. And his words… Oh, like his mother, he was able to deliver words that stung the most at the most unexpected time. And like his mother, there had been this beginning of coldness, worn like a mask. 

Was it too late?

He had to try.

“That doesn’t mean I trust you,” Henry Hamilton finally said. 

“And I am far from trusting you, with that little stunt you pulled. Yet, it _is_ Wade’s welfare we are talking about.”

Henry’s eyes lowered, considering, and Rhett smirked. He had won.

…

Wade looked through the newspaper with a mixture of disappointment and worry.

Pansy had said… Yes, she had said so. She would not have said so if it wasn’t true, she was not that kind of person, thinking that children needed lies to go on. 

Yet, no news today. Just like yesterday. And the day before. He sighed. And Pansy wasn’t there anymore. 

Oh, curse Uncle Henry! Curse all these dull books he wanted him to read, all these rules and habits he had to respect!

He put the paper away with a frustrated sigh. 

He couldn’t do anything here. He was powerless, a boy knowing a lot, but not being able to do anything about it! 

Yet, in this world, it seemed he could only count on himself…

Uncle Henry would certainly come back in a few hours. He could not find any issue here. A few hours, maybe it would be enough time to escape… And maybe, he could find Ella and leave with her… 

Yet, Uncle Peter was still guarding the door like a well-tamed dog.

But there were other ways than the front door…

With that resolution, he went to his room and gathered his things. The wind was moist as he opened the window and looked around. He climbed it, the foot almost out.

A knock on the door almost made him loose his footing. He froze. Had Uncle Henry arrived sooner than expected? 

Swiftly, he went back to the room, hid his bag and shut the window. 

He waited, his ears alert to the sounds of quarrels on the ground floor.

It wasn’t Uncle Henry, that for sure. 

He opened the door of his room to hear more, and his heart stopped. 

Uncle Rhett! He had come!

Wade froze. Then composed himself. He went down the stairs quietly, ignoring Uncle Peter’s protests. 

His former caregiver tipped his hat in his direction.

“Well, as I was saying, before I was rudely interrupted,” He jeered. “I went to get you back, boy. It had been decided you were under my protection now.”

There was on his face a smile that filled him with nostalgia, and Wade found his resolve wavering. 

“Wade…” He added, and there was a tone of sincerity in his tone, this time. “Would you mind give another chance to an old pirate?”

Wade stood still, not answering. He was thinking, deeply, his brow furrowing as he did so.

Ella went to him eagerly from behind Rhett’s back and pulled him by the sleeve of his shirt. Wade blinked. Ella! He had gotten Ella back!

She was smiling, that darling little fool, so trusting, and he envied her for that. Yet, how could she be able to, with everything that had happened?

“Wade! It’s time to go home, now!”

His eyes widened, his heart skipped a beat. Home, yes, he wanted that. He wanted that very much. But was there a home to be found? He hoped so, yet feared to hope. 

He pursed his lips then raised his head towards Rhett, meeting his eyes. And somehow, he felt it, that unwavering faith creeping inside of him, almost like a disease. He tried to fight it, but could not. So he squared his shoulders defiantly and answered. 

“You’re still in trouble, ser.”

Rhett roared in laughter. “You’re your mother’s boy, alright. Fine, I’ll prove myself to you, Wade. I promise.”

Wade flustered but maintained his gaze. His fist clenched, he joined them behind his back.

Ella fidgeted at his side, her feet swinging backward, then upward, her gaze insistent on Wade, and he wanted to pull her hair for that. Oh, why wasn’t she more discreet? 

He shook his head discreetly toward her. No, she couldn’t. They couldn’t trust him for the moment. 

And then, when finally he found the composure to, he asked. 

“Where shall we be going, ser?”

Rhett smirked and revealed the location, yet his heart fluttered with the sense of new beginnings and expectations. At this, Wade realized he had the answer to his questions. His eyes gleamed as he heard the words. 

“To Tara, son. To Tara.”


	30. Chapter 30

He knew the road in his heart, though he had never made the whole way. Many times, he had dreamed it, without daring to go. A cowardice he had tried to justify, yet not amounting to anything now. For it was the rival in his wife’s heart he did not dare to consider, a presence he could not just erase with money or by the threat of a gun. Ashley Wilkes could not even compare, he was a man and men could die, or be forgotten if given enough time (though time had been too infuriatingly long, filled with tension and suspicion). Houses could burn, be taken down brick by brick, yet they could be repaired, and their image never truly forgotten. It was the roots of his love, deeply anchored in that red earth, when he thought he had given up on his own and could fly wherever he wanted to.

And now Rhett was there. Settled on a carriage with the two children he loved and had taken for his own, in front of it, and he barely found the strength to look at it. 

So, this was Tara.

It must have been once a whitewashed brick plantation house, with no true coherent design at all, immaculate in the middle of an ocean of deep red clay, and it certainly had a softer look about it. He could imagine it. Yet now it lay wild, with a wide forest of pines like invaders on an island, a true sign of the victory of nature against culture. Where the men had given up on the land, the environment had ploughed and took piece by piece each parcel. 

There was a tiny resistance though, and Rhett saw the efforts of Will Benteen in the field that ran down from the right side of the house, recently ploughed yet not finished. He guessed Will had not had the time nor enough men to do it, and he was not a man to accept help from Scarlett. He remembered her laments over her beloved Tara, like a mother that was complaining of a daughter’s misfortunes. Yet, there had been a true respect between Scarlett and Will, so said son-in-law was no rake, but a man that refused the fortunes that were given to him. At least, not enough, she complained. She never could understand it, how someone could give up comfort, security for things that could not be touched and grasped. 

Oh, Scarlett…

This had been the land that had seen the growth of his love, a strange mix between roughness and softness, of the French and delicate aristocracy in the Robillard’s blood, and the rambunctious audacity of the Irish.

In Scarlett, the wilderness had always seemed to triumph over sophistication and the hardness over the softness. Yet, softness, now he could see he had judged her badly, and the more he thought about it, the more he remembered, all the little moments he could have seen it on himself, but did not let it. She had always been soft with her beaux, and he did not want to be her beau. He did not want to be the elderly husband she was _fond_ of. He wanted to be her everything, her hopes and dreams because he had built his own on her.

And now, where had it left them? 

Could her shadow be found here? Already, he could feel there was some magic in this place, named after the lands of the kings, living proof of the ambition of an Irish man, the will and works of black men and women on these fields, now almost deserted. 

And yet, the life was there, radiating from that red clay. It was with emotion he touched it, the color enlightening his dark skin. He looked at the stain, and for a moment it looked a bit like blood clouding on his hands. He looked away.

In front of the house, Mammy was waiting for them, and he stopped, apprehensive. How could he even explain to that rare woman, that had always taken care of Scarlett, of them all? A woman that he had wanted by his side for he knew he needed her approval if he wanted to get Scarlett’s heart?

“Come on, daddy!” Ella cried eagerly, jumping from the carriage. 

The girl grinned at him widely, her eyes glinting with excitation, and for a moment, it was another girl he saw, with the same eyes, and he took strength in it. 

Wade was silent by his side, still a bit wary, yet there were moments when the mask cracked, and it gave him hope. 

Rhett stepped forward quietly, looking at the old woman, a few grey hairs escaping the white fabric draped over her head. She laughed at Ella, berated her for running, yet took her into her arms with a baritone cry that was heart-warming. Then she handed her a black kitten, that she had hidden in her apron. The girl took the pet with excitation. 

“Mammy! You’ve taken care of her!”

Mammy grinned. The cat protested lazily but did not escape Ella’s embrace, as if that protest was more about its mistress being gone for too long than an animal dislike of being gripped by human hands.

“Yes, chile. Dat cat be waitin’ for you durin’ dese weeks,” With some difficulty, she raised and turned toward Wade, nodding with an affected reverence that the fond smile broke. “Why, uhllo Mistah Wade!”

Wade cracked a smile and made a salute. 

“Hello Mammy.”

"Good, good. Now come un, chilen,” She chided. “Come to de house. The ro’ms is ready for ye. Be off, little gremlins.”

Heartened by this welcoming, the children did as they were bid, but Rhett did not find enough time to slip with them to avoid Mammy’s stern glance. The big black hands were joined tightly in front of her, the junctures almost white.

“You done mah lamb wrong, Mistah Rhett.”

Rhett lowered his head.

“I know.”

“She done you wrong too, dat por chile. But tis not the same.”

“I know.”

“Stop tellin’ Mammy yer no, yer donno!” Mammy scoffed, her brow furrowing deeply on her marked forehead, and her brown eyes glinting dangerously. The foot stamped on the earth. “Yer better fix it. Ahma not cleanin’ dis ‘fter de boss of yer. Ah don't hav' dat much tahme left!”

With a last glare, she tried to turn away, but Rhett stopped her, his voice weary and jaded. She had not said things he hadn’t told himself over and over, yet it did not make it less painful. He needed to focus on other things. 

“What about the other children, Mammy?”

Mammy froze, then looked away. 

“Dat Prissy. Ah tole her it wasn’t to be. Took a likin’ to them, and, after they fled in de field, she found dem. Den took dem in. Now she doan want to let dem go, and dey is stuck to her like chicks to hen.”

Surprised, he considered this information and wondered what he could do with it. 

He sighed. No, he would not think of it today. It was almost night. He needed a good supper, and sleep. 

…

Yet it was not to be. For as soon as he passed the threshold, Prissy came with an assurance that was strange to his view, the two children that had been missing gripping her skirts and looking at him with defiance. 

“Mistah Rhett!” She cried. “Ah be needin’ to see you.”

“Not now, Prissy,” He shook his head, exhausted.

Yet she relented, for it was to her a mission sent to her by fate, and she intended to keep it.

“Der is my chilen, Mistah Rhett. Ah done find dem, now Ah keep dem. Ah love dem, and dey love me. Ah keep dem, and take care of dem. Miss Scarlett done tole me so.”

At the mention, Rhett’s eyes went swiftly to the servant, searching, yet she stood firmly. He sighed, dismissing it. 

“It will not be accepted, Prissy, I’m sure you know that.”

“Yer can do someting. Ah know yer can.”

Well, that was certainly a vote of confidence, but at that moment it seemed a bit too much for Rhett who dismissed with a gesture. Prissy smiled, for it made her remember somehow Mister Gerald, the one who bought her from the Wilkes just so her family would not be apart anymore. She felt more secure in this as she gathered the children around her. 

She knew what people thought of her. A silly little thing, a goose, Pansy had said. And maybe it was so. She did not quite know, but she could see she wasn’t thinking in the same way as the other persons, not as quickly, not as soundly. When she was afraid, it was difficult for her to contain her emotions. She had grown, treated like a child, and taking care of the mistress’ children. All the while wondering what it would be like, to have her own. Yet, it never came. 

And then, she found them, hidden in one of the oaks that were surrounding the house. She had looked at these children, that did not have black skin like hers, and yet, she saw in their eyes a fear she knew all too much. She guessed things and understood more than she had ever had, for there were things she had lived too. She felt something that took her whole, and that gave her a reason to live she hadn’t expected. A sense of owning, of belonging, that made her more than that little fool serving the Butlers. 

And when she realized the feeling was reciprocal, once she took them in and fed them, her choice was done. That, and another thing that had to be a secret for now, and that actually showed she was not a fool after all. 

But that could wait. Master Rhett would find a way. He always did. 

And if he didn’t, she could count on another.

She needed to believe it would be alright.

She kissed Caroline and Billy on their foreheads and led them to their rooms. Yet, it took a lot of reassuring before the poor things let go of her skirt.

…

In fact, the idea was taking roots in Rhett’s mind, despite his willingness to think of it on the morrow. 

These children had been quite a thorn on his side, and at first, he had been relieved to learn they had been missing. He did not know what to do if they were found. Scarlett, it seemed, had wanted something of them, and he couldn’t for the moment see what. That unanswered question made him ill-at-ease and he couldn’t just send them back to the orphanage. So he had to keep them close until he could figure it out. 

Yet, as much as he loved children, and he loved Wade and Ella so very much, these strangers were too wild for his sake, with a glint in the eyes that made him uneasy, for he had known for a long time what had been happening in the orphanage.

He would put it to the test, then. He did not expect very much from Prissy, who never really showed a hint of sense to him. Yet, a person was needed to take care of them, he could see that. 

While waiting for supper, he wandered through the rooms, taking everything in, all the signs of its former glory, and the new additions, little oddities that seemed like the attempts of someone trying to give an aristocratic air to it but failing to completely grasp the notion of it. Suellen’s, maybe. Scarlett was more one to go the whole way, either keep the ancient style or change it completely. And for this house, he was sure it would have been more of the first option, for changing it would seem like changing her childhood, an aberration when the house was her haven.

On the walls, they were all looking at him, all the members of Scarlett's family, and it felt like most judged him sternly. Rhett looked at the portraits with anxiety and expectation in his heart, the image of his beloved so vivid in his mind, but wanting the reassurance of the concrete to go on. His black eyes were alert on the walls and he wondered, irritated, how many Robillard portraits young Ellen as a bride might have brought with her. Then, they stopped at the figure of a beautiful and haughty black-haired woman, and his heart stopped for a little while. 

He blinked. Then the illusion disappeared, and he was left disappointed. 

No, this wasn’t Scarlett. That woman did not have his wife’s mischievous green eyes, and nor that square jaw and pointed chin. The woman had the black slanted eyes of the Robillards, and a cold aura of distinction about her. Yet, she had the same proud air, that of a woman who knew of her worth. A grandmother maybe, or maybe the infamous great-grandmother. 

He continued and his heart sored. He came across a family portrait. There she was, the darling thing, a little girl crying with laughter on her father’s shoulder. The same grin was on Gerald O’Hara’s face as he looked at his daughter in pride and love, and Rhett stared and stared. No, she was not like Bonnie had been, he realized. There were some similitudes, heart-rending similitudes. Yet both little girls at further inspection were different. Scarlett’s chin was a little more pointed, and there were a surprising maturity and expectation and these eyes, that had never been in Bonnie’s blue ones. There was a restless energy radiating this one, an energy that was dispersed yet mettlesome and it was in a second glance Rhett remarked the eyes were not on the father, but on the mother. 

Ellen O’Hara was sat quietly on a mahogany chair with a little white velvet cushion. Her features seemed carved in marble, soft yet unmoving, and as much as she was beautiful, there was no life in these black eyes that were staring right ahead. She was wearing a stern black dress that accentuated the paleness of her skin, and Rhett wondered if the portrait had been done after a miscarriage. After all, Scarlett’s sisters were here, little Suellen with an elegant pose that was only betrayed by the envy in her eyes as she looked at her father and sister. Carreen must have been a toddler, yet she was calm, and there was a quiet grace about her that made her a pale copy of her mother, who she was touching the hand. 

The shadow of a shadow, he reflected. He remembered once seeing Miss Ellen Robillard, and in these memories, there were some giggles and a vivid interest for gossip. He remembered dismissing it with the contempt of a boy that had just been excluded from home and wanted nothing but to hate these manners from that part of the coast. Ellen Robillard was at that time like the other girls, with a bit more gossip on her maybe, for it was said she was urged to escape by a cousin of hers. 

Now, it seems the life had gone from her, and he wondered for a time how Gerald could have lived with it, having the shell of a woman, but not her heart and mind. 

And most importantly, where did these green eyes and restless energy come from?

That part, when he thought he knew everything about Scarlett, bothered him. 

Dinner was eaten quietly, watched over by the past, and once the children were put to bed, he stayed behind, his heart beating at the idea of seeing Scarlett’s childhood room.

So he drank. And drank. Until Mammy took back the bottle and berated him. At this, he invited her to settle at his side and put a drink in her hand. 

“Tell me about Scarlett, Mammy.”

Mammy blinked, but settled the glass on the table.

“What woud you want Mammy to say, dat you doan already ‘no?”

“Everything. How she was as a child. How she grew up. What she was before I met her," He said, and it sounded like a plead. “Please. I want to hear about her.”

“It be killing you, uh, Mistah Rhett?” Mammy’s gaze was merciless on him, yet he expected it. After a while, she sighed. “Alraitt, Mistah Rhett. Ah be tellin’ ye. Miss Scarlett… she was a turbulent baby. A turbulent child. Always loud, always demandin’. Always maikin’ mischief. She be tirin’ Miss Ellen. It be laike…”

She stopped, as if she hesitated in continuing, her face distorting in conflict. 

“It was like?”

“It be laike she be tryin’ to ouake up Miss Ellen. Laike she be nowing dat Miss Ellen’s art be not in it,” She sighed. “Miss Ellen be a good woman. A good wife, and moder. She be lovin’ Miss Scarlett, very much, and worried so. But evar since Mistah Philippe be gone, he be takin’ most of her art wit him. An’ she never been de same. Never laughed, never been happy, truly.”

“I’ve heard this story. A long time ago. And what happened then? With Scarlett?”

“She be continuin her mischief, ‘nd mostly wit boys, ‘nd it became more ‘nd more. Masteh Gerald be glad of is gairl for dey ‘ad similar spirit, ‘nd a lot of energy to spaire. But even for ‘im, it be becomin’ too much. She be sent to Fayetteville. Den, wen she came back, Miss Scarlett be calm, too calm. Miss Ellen be thinkin’ she be becomin’ a laidi, resignin’ laike she did. Yet I new bettah. I could see it. Miss Scarlett be haiddin. Dem bein’ apart only made her haiddin’ wat she was.”

“And it was certainly when she came back she began to think of her mother as a saint, wasn't it?"

“Miss Ellen be always a Saint, Mistah!” Mammy protested, before adding begrudgingly. “But yea, Miss Scarlett began to act differently wit Miss Ellen. She be more respectful.”

He considered it, then nodded. 

“Thank you, Mammy.”

"Go to sle'p, Mistah Rhett. You be tir'd after de travel."

He sighed and nodded.

Then, when he could not avoid it anymore, he went to Scarlett’s room, his hand trembling a little as it touched the handle of the door. His heart squeezed, and he opened it, a crazy expectation settling. 

Yet, just like great expectations, they faded away with a painful sting of disappointment.

The room had certainly been taken for a little time by one of Suellen’s girls, and recently at that, because there were still some dolls and toys lingering on the floor, and drawings fixed on the walls painted in a deep green that highlighted the few pieces of furniture in mahogany.

The great case-bed lay on a thick green carpet, and it felt like it was waiting for its owner to come back soon. From the window, he could see and smell the magnolia. Magnolia had been the part of her scent, and he found himself missing the scent of roses.

He settled between the sheets of Scarlett’s bed and sighed, his heart aching. The scent was here, as if its owner had been there recently. After turning and turning, he gave up and drank himself to sleep.

…

After that talk with Mammy, the days passed, full of longing and discoveries. 

Longings because he felt he could sense her everywhere, from the room where she had slept during her childhood, to the fields where sometimes he had the feeling she would be there, running through the rows of cotton, her laughter ringing in echoes down the hills of her beloved Tara. 

Discoveries because he realized things he had not observed before. 

He realized somehow the late Gerald O’Hara had been quite musical in his time, for he found an old Irish violin with his initials in what must have been his office, and strings that seemed to have been teased many times. There was a thick layer of dust on it, but surprisingly, it still had a good sound. He took a fondness on the instrument, piqued by an odd feeling of nostalgia, of a time when as a boy, he defied his father who would have preferred him to play a more sophisticated instrument, like a piano, for example.

He realized Ella had quite the green thumb, and enthusiastically took care of the little garden in the yard, sometimes bullying Billy into helping her. She could be quite forceful too, working from dawn to sunrise. But her sweet smile made it difficult to refuse her, and even Mammy and Rhett were invited to the task. 

He realized Wade knew every person in the land and could call them by name, forgetting his natural shyness to share anecdotes about it. It was something that gave him confidence, and Rhett found in it a way to get closer to him again, valorizing his knowledge to get his trust back. 

The love of the land was strong in these children, and he felt proud in Scarlett’s behalf.

But most surprisingly, he realized Prissy deeply loved Billy and Caroline and took great care of them. The three of them were oddly complementary, and for all of the lack of his servant, the children adapted without a word, never once raising the voice nor protesting.

They had found one another, and it was somehow beautiful to see. Even if Rhett, by his upbringing, could not help but think they still made an odd trio.

So when he presented his plan of adopting them officially so that she’d be able to be their caregiver for real while not worrying about their formal education, Prissy almost jumped into his arms, crying big tears of joy, and the house’s atmosphere was lightened up immensely. 

Yet, there was one thing, that was not a discovery per se, but which still hindered that new peace.

Mammy. Mammy, so strong, almost unmovable. 

Mammy who was ill, yet too stubborn to admit it. 

It was little signs. Times when she would forget some things. Times when she would stare longingly at the windows or be tired more easily. 

Even her chidings had grown weaker, and more and more, Rhett realized how much the land depended on that woman, who still handled it in a strong grip, in memory of her former masters. 

Adrian and Olsen were still nowhere to be seen, and the waiting was getting frustrating. So he made sure to leave some little provocations on the way, the times when he could linger in the neighboring taverns. 

As for that Scot and that black man, Scarlett’s former employees, they seemed to have disappeared entirely, hopefully to some hell they would not escape. Yet one could never be sure. 

So he decided to put himself to the task, taking Mammy's burden off of her, while continuing his investigations over the land. 

Yet, these practicalities did not avoid some strange events to happen.

…

One stormy night, a black woman knocked at the door, her wet rags heavy on her thin body. 

It was Mammy who raised the alarm, her big, baritone voice echoing in the house. 

“Yer, in de house? Miss Ellen be rollin’ on her grave, Ah tell you dat! Not whale I liv’!”

When Rhett went down to see what it was all about, she had firmly put herself in front of the door, as the true protector of Tara.

“What is it, Mammy?” He intervened smoothly.

“Dat damn fortoone tattletale!” Mammy grumbled. “Mammy Jincy. But no Mammy anymore, no! Been goin on houses after houses, tellin’ her stories. Tis enough she put some tale in mah lamb and the young uns years ago, now she be wantin to do it again.”

Oh, a fortune teller. Once again. Yes, he thought he had heard about it. Who told him? Maybe it was Scarlett, and that thought gave him an odd feeling.

Here again, superstition was coming to him, and he could not help it. Because the want did not disappear, nor the need. This night especially, when he was at his fourth glass of Scotch.

He wanted to see her again. And if it was irrational to do so, then once again, he did not care to be so. Yet, she still wasn't there.

“Let her, Mammy. I would like to hear her.”

Surprised, Mammy blinked, then stared at him. But seeing he would not change his mind, she took a step back and begrudgingly let the woman in. Yet not without expressing loudly her opinion on the subject. 

“Doan understand Mistah Rhett be lettin’ dis one in de house. Unnatural, dat is. Ain’t fittin’.”

And just like that, the woman was settled, ironically fed as fitted the hospitality of the South, and once it was done, she sat quietly on the couch of the living room, savoring the warmth of the burning logs in the fireplace. Rhett sat quietly on the big chair, observing her, looking for a trace of scam.

“So tell me, woman…”

“Mammy Jincy.”

He smiled, amused. “Mammy Jincy. It is said you tell fortunes.”

Her eyes glinted. 

“Ah do.”

“See, I’ve already seen one, and I’m still not quite convinced…”

“Yer ‘re, else you wudno ask," She retorted.

“Oh, so you can maybe tell me what I’m doing here, then.”

She barely looked at him, her eyes settling on the flames.

“Yer lookin’ for a ghost, ser. A ghost wit gre’n ayes ‘nd dark ‘air.”

A hint of white teeth was shown through the red lips. He knew the rumors might have said something about it. Just how far would it go?

“Oh. But then you can tell me why I can’t find it.”

“Yer too old for seein’ a ghost like dat, ser,” She laughed. “Ye can’t see a ghost ef dey don’t want ter see you. Only chilen, pets and dyin’ people can do dat.”

“That sounds a bit unfair.”

She shrugged.

“Ah’m not de one setting rules, ser.”

He gritted his teeth, feeling like he had wasted his time.

“Yer in der rit place, sir,” The woman said in a softer tone. “But a bit late. Shou’d have come so’ner.”

“Well, tell me something that I don’t know.”

“Yer not searching on the rit sid’, sir. Ye’ll not find what yer searchin’ for.”

“And yet I’m in the right place?” He insisted, before sneering, irritated not to have a clear-cut reply when he had told himself over and over again he did not truly believe it. “You’re saying nonsense, old cat.”

“Yer not lissening.”

“Oh, I am. But you haven’t told me what I am looking for.”

She smiled largely, revealing a golden tooth among blackened ones.

“Dat woman. Dat woman yer lookin’ for. Yer lookin’ in der ‘rong sid’. Ye'll not find her dat sid'.”

He raised, not tolerating this nonsense anymore, and left the room. Not being cruel enough to order her out in the rain, he ordered things to be done so that she could stay for the night. Then, he went to the room with his usual bottle, smiling as he heard Mammy’s remonstrances. 

“Dat woman. Ain’t fitting, ‘er ‘ere. Miz Ellen be rolling on her grave, Ah tell ye dat,” Mammy grumbled. “She and her fortoons. A wicked ting, Ah tell ye dat.”

…

Yet, it was not the only strange thing that happened. It was little things at first. Objects that were moved, or who disappeared. Little whispers that echoed in the house, familiar shadows, beloved shadows. Scents, feelings that she was there, by his side, and that he could find her again. He would not even say her name, for he feared saying it would break his heart over again and made the presence leave.

There was this cat also, who sometimes took to hissing for no understandable reasons. 

And then there was one day when Ella came to him and told him something that completely dumbfounded him. She came to him with her eyes glinting, her little mouth trembling as if she was refraining from saying too much, but was failing at it. 

“I have a secret…”

Amused by it, he looked at her and decided to humor her. 

“And what is it, my dear Ella?”

“I’ve seen Mama.”

He blinked. The woman's voice came to his mind.

“Lucky you. I wish I could see her too.”

“She’s waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me?”

“She said you were playing a game of hide and seek, and she’s waiting for you to find her.”

Wade was calling, impatient, but the girl was staring at him, determined.

“Then tell her next time you see her she hid pretty well, and I’m helpless at finding her. She’d better leave her hiding spot.”

“She said you’re still angry with her. She can’t if you’re angry.”

He sighed. “I’m not angry, child.”

“She said you will,” The girl relented, a stubborn little pout on her face. “She said you have to find her.”

That being said, she raised and ran towards Wade who was coming toward them. 

At that talk, Rhett first did not react. Yet it stayed on his mind and the more he tried to let go, the more it stuck. 

In the end, it was her presence in the house, the presence of his beloved, and he wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe he would see her again, that somehow these little oddities would take shape and make her appear. 

When some neighbors came, they could feel it, in his talk, in the talk of the children, but none dared to say anything. 

None but Beatrice Tarleton who made it her mission to put her nose in it, for the sake of the children. 

“You shouldn’t talk to the children like that,” She said one day.

“Like what?” He said in his drawling flat tone. 

“Like their mother is still alive. You’ll only confuse them and they’ll be lost them in hopes that will never be true.”

Then we’ll be together in that illusion, ma’am, he wanted to answer. But the woman was already riled up.

“Oh, if you had been one of my sons, I would have whipped you!” She scolded. “I did not understand Scarlett when she was a young girl. I always thought she was… too spirited, and there she was, trying to take my son with her… Yet, when she came back to Tara… She was another woman entirely, and I respected her. She was a strong woman, fierce and resilient. Let her be at peace.”

“I am not at peace. The children are not at peace.” It is fitting she be not at peace, he thought bitterly. 

“Then you are the most selfish man I’ve ever met.”

He did not deny it, for he knew it was the truth.

The interview was ended with restrained politeness, that could have been warmer had the circumstance been different, for they were two persons who respected the strength of character, especially when it wasn’t opposed to them in some way, and that believed in encouraging certain independence of mind in others. 

With a weary sigh, he settled in the living room. He took Gerald’s old violin and played it, in his mind the last song Scarlett had ever played for him. In his heart the memory of her loving look on him, her declaration to the crowd, and the passionate night that had followed.

After a time, Ella hummed at his side, and Wade sat on the bench of the piano, silent, before touching the keys. 

They had understood and now played along too. He smiled, getting lost in the melody. 

Yet, suddenly, Wade lingered on some keys, and Rhett stopped, surprised. The boy did not look at him. He stared at the keys, as if undecided, then his jaw tightened, his eyes bright and sorrowful.

He began to play “When this cruel war is over”. 

Dumbfounded, Rhett blinked, his black eyes widening with emotion as Ella joined her brother on the bench. And when she began to sing, it was like his heart was being squeezed in his chest.

.

_Dearest one, do you remember,_

_When we first did meet?_

_When you told me how you loved me,_

_Kneeling at my feet?_

_Oh! How proud you stood before me_

_In your suit of grey_

_When you vow’d to me and country,_

_Ne’er to go astray._

_._

_Weeping, sad and lonely,_

_Sighs and tears how vain,_

_When this cruel war is over,_

_Praying then to meet again…_

.

His lament of mournful love had been changed by them to a cry for their mother, he understood. A cry for her to come back.

And somehow, without he could hold them back, tears left his eyes, and he took the violin back to join them in their cry.

When the night came, Rhett stayed a little longer outside, gazing at the fields, the calmness of it, and the mystery brought by the mists. It had rained that day, and the red earth was wet and malleable. 

He took a puff of his cigar. It was a night fitted for the supernatural, he decided. But then why couldn’t he see her? If there was such thing as ghosts?

“You miss her, right?” He heard the voice of Wade, before feeling him sitting at his side, on the steps of the house. “I’ve heard you talk with Mammy Jincy. You want to see Mother again.” 

Rhett sighed.

“Your mother is the love of my life. That will never change.”

“Then you’ll find a way,” He said. “Didn’t you say for what it means to be, there’s always a way?”

“Sometimes it’s not that simple. Sometimes, the ways are cut."

The boy looked at him, conflicted, and then his eyes flashed. 

“Then build new ones.”

That being said, he went back to the house, leaving his stepfather pondering painfully on the question. 

…

After that, the children stayed a little longer by usual in the living room and, curious, he watched them, settled on his chair with a cigar. 

Mammy was in her room. She barely left it these days, and Rhett had a bad feeling about it, especially with the melancholy taking its hold on the imposing woman. 

He took a puff of his cigar. Wade was sitting cross-legs on the carpet, nonchalantly turning the pages of a book he did not seem to read, Ella by his side tapping impatiently her fingers on the carpet. 

“Wade, Wade,” Ella pleaded. “Please, tell me the story!”

“Alright, Ella,” Wade said, a bit too theatrically. “But then you have to tell me what happened with Solene and Robert the last time.”

Oh, so they were continuing that story, Rhett realized. 

“Well, Solene found Robert and tried to make him escape. But then there were pirates, Robert’s enemies that set fire to the prison, and Solene and Robert escaped but lost each other on the way!”

Ella’s gestures were wild and enthusiastic, and Rhett almost chuckled fondly. He looked at them, without truly listening, for it was too hard, and he knew if he was taking an interest, they would expect him to add his part, and without Scarlett, he couldn’t bear to. 

Wade smiled.

“Good, Ella. Yet, you forgot to say the onyx fell back on the floor, and she disappeared when the men came.”

“Oh, the last stone!” Ella squinted. “Oh, but then that means she can go back to her realm!” 

“You’re right, Ella. But then she disappeared, and Robert thought Solene was dead.”

Ella’s eyes were wide, then fluttered lightly as she asked.

“But she wasn’t dead, was she, Wade?”

“No. Not really. Her father had said she would think it was too late when she came back, but in fact it felt too early for her. She did not want to go home. She wanted to find Mary and Robert back. Yet, she did not know how.”

“But… Couldn’t her mum and dad help her?”

Wade paused, as if trying to see if the girl could bear it. 

“Her mum and dad were dead, and the land was in chaos. That was why in fact she was late. She couldn’t find her way back.”

“Oh, but she can!” Ella cried. 

“No, not now, Ella...”

There, he was recalling his mother returning home to Tara during the war, a painful memory for him, yet it was kind of brave of him to want to talk about it, Rhett thought. But the girl’s eyes filled with tears, and Rhett decided it was enough, interrupting Wade as he was trying to continue “but at least she had some friends she could rely on…”

“Alright, children, to bed now.”

“But…” Wade protested. “I haven’t finished…”

“I think you did your part, Wade,” Rhett could not help the bite from escaping his lips as he led them to bed.

Ella was crying, yet there was a moment when she turned to her brother to say sorry, and Rhett could not understand why. He tried to comfort her, and make her laugh. Once it was done and the girl closed her eyes, he turned toward Wade, who was looking at him with an upset expression on his face.

The candle was flitting, and it accentuated the shadows in Rhett's face.

Wade’s eyes widened, as if a bit frightened, then he lowered his head. “You’ll have seen it wasn’t that bad if you had let me continue the story. Ella just overreacted.”

Rhett looked at him and sighed. He remembered the words of Mrs. Tarleton and wondered if she was right, after all. Maybe it wasn’t good for the children. “Boy, you know how hard it is. I know you love your mother, and believe me, I miss her every day. I know you want to do something to make us remember her. But maybe it’s too early, to continue that story of hers. She wouldn’t want…”

Wade’s eyes burned. “You don’t know what she wants! If she was there…”

“But she’s not,” Rhett said softly, his heart squeezing painfully at this. “Wade, I don’t want us to be angry at each other. You are my boy, and I love you, just like I love your sister. I will do anything to keep you safe and secure, and I hope I’ll make you happy when the time comes. But now, it's too early."

“But…” Wade protested.

“No but,” Rhett sighed, before kissing his forehead. “Go to sleep, Wade. It’ll be easier tomorrow.”

That being said, he closed the door of the boy’s room and went down to take a drink. Then another. But another room begged to be visited, and he had delayed it for too long. 

Yet, it felt hard to even think of it.

In front of Mammy’s door, Ella’s cat was hissing and he chuckled. 

“Jeez. Silly cat.”

Amused, he took it and put it on Ella’s bed, the cat nuzzling the sleeping girl’s pillow. 

Then he went back to see Mammy. There was no turning back now, no distraction to be found. It was something that had to be done, hard as it was. 

He took a breath in, then out, and entered the room. 

She was laying on her bed, almost immobile. Her eyes were gazing at the ceiling, and he thought he was too late. Yet, she stirred when he went closer, and looked at him with these brown, intelligent eyes. 

There was no mistaking now. It was time. 

“Ah, Mistah Rhett. Ye came.”

“I did, Mammy. You were waiting for me?”

“Waitin’?” She let out a loud sigh. “Yea, waitin’. Ah been waitin’ for a lon’, lon’ taime. ‘nd yet it caime. Ah feel it. Ye feel it too?”

“I had the feeling, Mammy. Yet, I didn’t want to believe…”

“No un want to believe wen it come, but it come,” She said, her breath loud and clear in the room. “Ah done want be buried wit my pretty r’d petticoat. Tis too pretty to let it to a stranger. ‘nd Prissy be dat clumsy.”

“And it fits only you.”

He looked at the woman that had been constant in their lives, his, Scarlett’s and Bonnie’s, like that of a mother watching over them. He felt a surge of sadness at the idea of her gone, with a despair, for it felt like another link to his wife that was slipping away. He took her hand in his and found himself pleading. 

“Don’t leave us here, Mammy. You’re too precious of a soul to loose.”

Mammy shook her head, and with a slight reprimand gently taped on his hand. He sighed and filled a glass for himself, gulping it down to numb the emotion that was taking over. Mammy’s mouth raised in a disapproving pout. 

“Bad habit it is, Mistah Rhett, to drink yerself to sleep like dat. Miss Scarlett be not liking it.”

“Peace, Mammy, you’ve already berated me enough. Take a drink with me. You deserve it.” 

Yet Mammy was stubborn till the end, and he was forced to put down the glass. 

“Not enough. Not barly enough. ‘nd no, Ah woan take a ting.”

They talked some more, softly, reminiscing, and he did not dare to leave her, for fear she would be alone in her deathbed. Yet, he could not hold back anymore from these restless nights, that now took over, encouraged by the amount of liquor he had ingurgitated. He slept and dreamed, a dream after so many nights without, sweet yet so sad he wanted to cry.

It was at first whispers in the dark, in a hell he couldn’t leave. He ran and ran and screamed, yet a deep,cold blankness was surrounding him, and he couldn’t escape. He could only listen, familiar, beloved voices. He couldn’t reach it, even though he tried to. So he listened and tried to cry for them. But they wouldn’t notice. It was a place between the dying and the dead, and he was left out when he so deeply wanted to be in at that moment.

“… der’s a man der, waitin’ for you.”

“Not now, Mammy. Now is not the time.”

“Den when’ll it be?” The old mammy chided, her lower lip raised in indignation. “You two is the most insufferable uns Ah had to tak’ caire of. Tis a wicked game you be playin’, boss of you.”

“One game I do not know how to end.”

“Ye’ll find a way, chile. Boss of you. Stubborn mules, boss of ye. Ah done tole you.”

The sweet ghost let out a bittersweet peal of laughter that took his breath away. He did not dare to open his eyes, for fear of making her disappear.

“Thank you, Esther.”

There was a silence, like a chill in the night. 

“What did you say, chile?” Mammy's voice uttered with difficulty. “Mammy is Mammy, and everyone done call mammy mammy.”

“And you’ve been the greatest mammy in the world," There, the beloved voice became tearful. “Oh, Mammy, Esther, please don’t leave us like that! You’ve been the best mother one could have, and I’m sorry I was not the one you wanted me to be!”

“What dis foolishness? Miss Ellen woud no like it. Tis not fitting. She be your mother, and de best one.”

“Yes, she was, and I knew she loved me… Yet, I was human and she was an angel, and how can I ever reach that? You have always been there for me. It is fitting. And Mother wouldn’t have liked it if I forgot to thank the ones who raised me. And you did raise me.”

“Yer mother was a Saint, always workin to death for dose who done noting for it. I know she be not always wit you, chile, dat her hart was not always dere, but tis no reason to say dis ting!”

“Please, don’t be mad at me. Here, hold me in your arms, like you used to do when I was a little girl…”

Mammy sighed. 

“You been an ignorant chile, ma lamb, an I canno stay mad at a chile. Specially mine. Zo I’d believd you need some whippin’ sometahms, for makin us worry so.”

“Oh, Mammy!”

Rhett heard a soft sob, almost buried in the sheets, a light pressure on the bed, and the soft caress of a big hand on long hair.

“Yer have to let go, mah lamb…” Mammy’s voice was as loving as chiding. “Dat’s what wron’ wit you. You eizer hold on too taht or you grip too many tings at once. Dat’s no way to liv’. Yer gwine get hurt. Dat’s how you lose tings.”

“I know. But how can I let you go? I so dearly need you, Mammy!”

“Yer dono need me, mah lamb. Yer just tink you do. Yer just tink you can hide behind Mammy, like yer lil’ girl.”

“You always were too wise for my sake,” He heard the soft ruffle of the cover and the sound of a kiss. “Oh, I love you.”

“I done love yer too, chile. But tis tahme to let go. Go back to yer world.”

No! He wanted to scream. No, she couldn’t go back to her world, he needed to hear her once again. He needed to see her once again. 

He opened his eyes as much as he could, his lids painful and difficult to raise, and stayed mesmerized. He could not move, could not talk. He felt weak, powerless against that aching surge of love that was running through his body, as well as the dull feeling of numbness the liquor had left on his body even in a dream such as this one.

She glowed with the moon’s light, her skin ethereal like that of a fairy. He dared not move, not even breathe. Her eyes shined like the green flash allowing the dead to come back to life, a light like an illusory lighthouse either guiding men to home or to their dooms. She was wearing a thin white shift, light against her body, and it felt like the wind would take her away by the slightest force. 

Oh, if he could hold her tight, force her to stay in the land of the living! Would he be able to? Or would she, like Eurydice, disappear once again before his eyes? Would the dream stop if he did so? If so, he wouldn’t do anything. He just wanted to stay there, stare at her to his heart's content.

“It’d been a lon… lon time since someone done call me dat…” Mammy said, and there were tears in that big, beloved face. “Esther…”

Scarlett leaned in, and pearls were glinting down her cheeks.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

“Don you cry, chile, or Ahll really whip you,” Mammy scolded. “Didn’t raise you like dat.”

“No, of course.”

“An’ ain’t fittin’ for you to say aye and nay like dat!” There, Mammy’s voice became more soothing and she opened her arms. “Der, chile. Come to your Mammy. Taike mah hand, like dis. Stay wit yer Mammy a lil’ more, and do promahse me…”

“Anything!”

“Promahse me yer gwine stop actin’ lahke a mule and make it raitt!”

“You’re unbelievable,” She chuckled, the beloved angel of death, tears gathering at the end of the tilted lashes, and kissed Mammy’s forehead. “Sleep well, best of mammies. I’ll stay with you a little more.”

Tears fell silently on his cheeks and he could not prevent his eyes from closing, letting the dream be at an end.

When he woke up, the hand of Mammy was cold, and there was a serene smile on her face. She was dead.


	31. Chapter 31

It was quiet and slightly windy, the day Mammy was buried in the wet, fertile red clay of Tara, and the wind seemed to hum a last funeral lament in her honor. 

Big Sam added his own too, big tears flowing down his kind face, and soon Pork, Dilcey and Prissy joined. Rhett looked at them with dull eyes, his two children gathered around him. Ella was crying, hiding her little face on his cloth, while Wade was trying not to show his emotions. Yet his eyes were blood-shot. Billy and Caroline were there as well, silent shadows behind Prissy. Nothing on their faces, as if they were old and tired old persons having lived through enough tragedies not to feel anything.

There had been too many funerals, Rhett reflected. He couldn’t cry as well. Not because he prevented himself from it, but because he had already done it enough. His eyes were dry, and it felt hard to process all of this. He needed to be calm. He needed to be in control of the situation. 

And there was this splitting headache, that did not leave him! Maybe he should be more reasonable with the drinks. Even if these days, it seemed it was the only thing that brought him to sleep. And that brought him her image.

Soon, it would be over. Soon, maybe he could mourn that woman as well as she deserved to be mourned. But not today. There were too many things to think of at once. 

When the funeral lament ended, people dispersed, and Rhett encouraged Wade and Ella to join Prissy, before turning to Pork.

“Why aren’t there more of your people here?”

“Dis a haunted place, sir,” He replied simply. “Dere’s too many gosts in de ‘ouse. De oders are ‘fraid.”

“Ghosts?” 

There had been too many mentions of it lately, and it gave more shape to that dream he had had, the night Mammy died. The hope that was there, that maybe…

But he couldn’t think about it now.

“Dey be folish, dat’s all…”

“No…” Rhett mused. “But what made them think there are ghosts?”

The man’s face closed.

“Ah kain talk about dat, sir. Dey is no thing I can tell ye, ‘nd Ah doan like talkin’ ‘bout it. Too painful, it is.”

It made Rhett pause, and by empathy, he felt sorry for mentioning it. 

“Sorry, old Pork. I did not want to trouble you.”

“Dis nothing. Dere’s the chillen, ‘nd dey shuden’t be ‘fraid.”

“They won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” 

“Mistah…” Pork continued. “Ah saw someun spill po’der ‘round de house.”

Then it has begun. It had been lucky the man hadn’t burned the powder.

“Did he see you?”

“No, sur. Been scar’d by… someting else.”

“Another ghost, perhaps,” Rhett mused. “Wash it, Pork. Be discreet about it. And put the substitute I told you about instead. That man must not suspect we know of it.”

“’Ritt, sur.”

He nodded quietly, staring once again at the tomb. It wasn’t even nearly enough for her, and he promised himself that when he would have the time, he would provide something better. 

“Go to rest, Pork,” He said after some time. “You’ve done plenty for today.”

And plenty, they had done, indeed. It was a feast he had prepared to honor her memories, with all the things he could gather in such a short time. Some neighbors were even invited. 

Suellen had refused the invitation, and Rhett had the feeling she must have answered before even talking to her husband. She would pay her respect when the demons would be gone, she said. 

To Rhett, it made no difference not to have her, or perhaps a little regret, that of not being able to talk to Will, like he did the last time. 

When it was all said and done, he silently went to what must have been Scarlett’s mother’s office, a place he discovered recently but had not dared to put a shoe in it. 

The place was untouched, as if waiting for its former mistress. The dust had gathered on every surface, and it still had a nauseating smell of lemon verbena, that must have been sweet at its prime. Now, it just felt sad, abandoned. And yet, he wanted to know. It was the mistress Mammy had served with such diligence. The mother Scarlett had adored… Certainly, looking through her things would make him feel closer to her…

He looked through the pigeonholes eagerly. Letters, accounts all went to his eyes, most of them without interest. The headache worsened, and he sneezed numerous times because of the dust. 

Then, he saw little carnets, deeply pushed in the pigeonholes, seemingly more intimate. A light of interest came to his eyes. Picked by curiosity, he opened the first and realized it was a diary. What could it reveal about Scarlett? He thought. What could it reveal about her mother, how she raised her? 

There were little installments in the carnets that were mostly short descriptions of the daily activities, charities of the late Ellen O’Hara. He was surprised by the impersonal way that was mostly used, as if it was the writing of someone recalling the life of somebody else. Some of the phrases were lists of things to do, concrete tasks. Gossips reported. Yet, very few feelings, and when there was, it seemed it was mostly sadness, a deep languor that did not leave the woman that was writing it. And at the end of each installment, the same, worrying, counting. And the same you, that must have been the memory of young Philippe Robillard, if he had to guess. He looked at it, his eyes selectively focusing on bits, the ones that interested him.

.

_ Mister O’Hara is nice. Not a gentleman, but he tries. Screams a lot, but I can see now it’s just the way it is. I know he tries his best, and I am gentle with him, as I should be.  _

_ I’m pregnant. It will be a boy, I hope. It would be the end of that part of my duties. _

_ Have taken new duties too. Can’t bear staying in the house for too long. I need some activities, not to make me forget, but at least to make me think of it less often. _

_ One year, two days without you. _

_. _

_ Can’t sleep. That child is exhausting. It is mine, oh, I know it, but there’s some wildness in her that is not mine. I try to be soft, but it doesn’t work. Does she want to make me scream? I can’t. I have no voice left. My heart can’t bear it. _

_ Mammy will know what to do. The girl will be better with her. _

_ Still no boy. A girl, Susan. She clings to me like Scarlett did, but her grip is weaker, and she’s silent, at least.  _

_ Three years, thirteen days without you.  _

_. _

_ Must talk to Mammy. Today, Scarlett pushed Stuart Tarleton and jumped with him in the river. All while I was nearby.  _

_ Hopefully, Caroline is a sweet baby. Calm. Doesn’t ask for more than I could give.  _

_ Five years, one day without you. _

_. _

_ Another boy dead. I must still bear it. It is a lady’s duty. _

_ What should be done with Scarlett? She is wilder and wilder, almost like a boy, and I’m beginning to think Mister Gerald considers her as such. That shouldn’t be so. It’s not what she is meant to be. _

_ Seven years, sixty-seven days without you. _

_. _

_ Scarlett went to Fayetteville. Peace at last. One should not think of their child like that, and I feel guilty thinking it. Yet… I can’t help but think Suellen and Carreen are easier girls, and Suellen is almost sweet when her oldest sister isn’t there. _

_ Twelve years, one hundred and one days without you.  _

_. _

_ Thank God, Scarlett is returned and resigned! She is calmer now. Listens more. Yet, there are more and more boys that gather around her. She doesn’t seem very serious about them. I hope it’s only a phase. _

_ Sixteen years, forty-five days without you.  _

.

_ Mister Kennedy is seeing Suellen more and more. An old man, but a good name. An Irish name, yet settled for a longer time than Mister O’Hara. Suellen seems happy enough. She doesn’t have much choices, poor dear.  _

_ Seen Scarlett and Ashley. Could it be? _

_ Sixteen years, two-hundred and fifty-two days without you. _

.

_ He’s different from you, love. Yet you were different from me as well. He’s not an adventurer, but she is, and the Wilkes family is ancient and respected. Could it be a way to end this story? My daughter marrying the one she loves, convincing him to escape with her, like you tried with me? _

_ Must talk to Ashley. _

_. _

Reading other little installments, Rhett realized something. Ellen had stopped the counting. And the more he read, the more he could feel anguish lurking in the delicate cursives.

_. _

_ Just a flirt, they say. Yet, I’ve seen it. He’s playing with her, and I believed he would do the right thing. And she believes it, the poor child. What is the prize of a girl’s broken heart, for them?  _

_ I can’t talk to her about it. I can’t do it. _

_ Oh, love, what would you do? _

_. _

_ Now, she is set to marry another, and I can’t help but remember you. She is determined like I was at her age. Must history repeat itself? _

_ She is strong. Stronger than she knows. Yet I can see. There’s this glow in her eyes, and I know she isn’t going to let it go. Oh, what have I done? _

.

_ She is desolate, the poor child. Did she learn to love the man she married, as I could not do? Nothing seems to help her, not even the delicacies of Savannah and Charleston. I hope she will be better in Atlanta. I can’t bear seeing her like that. It awakens something in me that I can’t think about now. Yes, she’ll be better in Atlanta. Melanie Wilkes is a sweet girl, and perhaps they will form a friendship, with the loves they have in common. Or perhaps not. One can only hope. _

.

_ Scarlett is doing it again. And now she had attracted the attention of that Rhett Butler. Eulalie and Pauline tell me so many things about him. And  _ I _ remember. I remember it was him that told you you could find fortune elsewhere, my love. Else you would have stayed, I know it… I hate him. I know a woman should not have these feelings, but I can’t help it.  _

_ Oh, the irony it would be if somehow he… No, I mustn’t think about it. It is a mean thought, and I wouldn’t want to curse my child with such a man. _

_ Mister O’Hara needs to go. But not be too forceful. Scarlett would only be encouraged by it. _

_. _

Rhett blinked, intrigued. Did he? He couldn’t quite remember. He had said many things in that time.

Well, he never expected her blessing anyway. She could keep her aborted attempt at a malediction, he thought bitterly. He was already cursed, and long before she even thought of it.

.

_ Hopefully, it is done. Scarlett does not mention it.  _

_ I think there’s a new glow in her. Does she have a new suitor?  _

_. _

_ Scarlett refused to come back. Ashley was visiting. Maybe it was that. Maybe she hadn’t quite forgotten… _

_ No, I will not think about it.  _

_. _

_ The Slatterys are sick, and now after that I feel a little dizzy as well. Mister O’Hara wants me to see a doctor, but it’ll be too much trouble. Carreen will help me. I wish Scarlett was with me. She is nursing too, now. Yet, I can’t borrow her when the Cause so greatly needs her. And I can’t worry her, poor child, she’s already going through too much. _

_ And she hasn’t forgotten. Her words in the letter don’t say it, but I feel it. Is it a malediction? _

.

_ My fault, my terrible fault… Must my woes and sins befall all on my daughters as well? _

He closed the carnet with a feeling of fright coming into his body like goosebumps creeping to his skin. Almost breathless, there was a deep cold in him, and he attributed it to the fact of reading the writing of a dying, tortured woman. Yet, there was some other thing he could not quite place, or would not, and Rhett, who had always been very self-aware, felt very frustrated with himself. 

Swiftly, he put the carnets back to the pigeonholes and escaped the suffocating place to breathe more clearly the sharp, invigorating air of Tara. 

The house was calm, asleep, and dark. Yet, there was still life in this land, he felt it.

Wade was there, sat on the steps of the house, and he joined him silently. He could smell the magnolia from here, and that deep, earthy scent of the land having been recently ploughed. 

“I can’t believe she’s gone…” The boy finally whispered. “She had always seemed…”

“Invulnerable. An unmovable force, to be reckoned with.”

“Yes,” Wade admitted, lowering his head. “And with her, it was easier…”

He seemed to have trouble continuing, and Rhett did not urge him to. He could see he needed space and time. The words would come on their own, disparate, maybe, but it was him, his caregiver, his adopted father, that had to put some order into them. And he prepared himself to do that. 

“I envy Ella sometimes. I still remember it, you know?”

“What do you remember, Wade?”

“The war,” The boy began. “I was a little boy then, but I still remember the shots of the cannon, the uncertainty of living another day… The people leaving us…”

Rhett leaving them. Guilt came to his heart, in a way it had never been when he had been with Scarlett. He had never wanted to think she might be harmed. She seemed so fierce, his little frivolous fighter in petticoat, and he had always wanted to believe she would be fine, waiting for him somewhere. 

Yet it wasn’t the case.

“I’m sorry, Wade.”

But the boy shook his head.

“No, not just you. Doctor Meade. Mrs. Meade. Mrs. Elsing, running away in her carriage with food…. They were all running away. And Aunt Melly was crying, she felt so much pain, and Prissy had lied… I don’t know really what she lied about, but Mother was furious. Yet, when she came to Aunt Melly, her voice was soft, and she made her laugh… And I was there, I was afraid and hungry… And Mother told me not to bother her…”

Oh, Scarlett. It must have been a difficult time for her, and the child had suffered it. How could a scared child comfort another, when other atrocities were coming?

“Mother…” He continued, his voice breaking. “She always told me to run if I felt I was outnumbered.”

“She did not teach you braveness…” Rhett could not help but say, a wistful smile on his face that looked too much like a jeer.

Wade froze. His face closed and as he rose, Rhett cursed himself for not going to the point. 

“Wade…” He tried, following him to the living-room.

But the boy was already walking toward the wall, and Rhett saw the old saber that had once belonged to Charles Hamilton. With a swift gesture, Wade took it and unsheathed it towards his stepfather, his eyes hard as stone. Wary, Rhett raised his empty hands and slowly came forward.

“Take it back,” The boy said. “Take it back, damn you or I…”

The blade cut through the thick skin of the palm, and Rhett winced a little with the sting while Wade’s eyes widened at the drop of blood that was coming from the wound. The grip trembled, the tears burned while the lip trembled, and he let go of his weapon with a cry of frustration and sorrow. It rang with a clear sound, almost crystal on marble. His stepfather took advantage of it, taking the boy into his arms and kicking the saber away.

“ _ Oh, if I was a man…” _ He remembered her say.

“She did not teach you braveness,” He said, embracing his son against him. Wade tensed against him, but relaxed at the next words. “Because she knew you already had it. You’re as hot-blooded as she.”

The boy almost laughed in tearful relief.

“Why couldn’t you say that at the beginning? Why would you say such a thing?”

“My fault, son. I tend to forget you can have the same temper as she. It’s… too hard to even think of it, that sometimes I try not to think about it,” He answered quietly, his heart beating slowly, yet soundly. “Your mother… She saw a lot of people she cared about dying. Many men died in a cause they thought honorable, without thinking of the ones they left behind, and your mother… she was the one… rare sensible person to think that it was a folly. Of course, she did not want you to be brave. She wanted you alive, safe…”

“Well-fed,” Wade could not help but cracking with a sob a tiny smile, that Rhett returned.

“Well-fed,” He chuckled. “She loved you, Wade. More than she ever knew.”

“I know it,” The boy said quietly after a pause. “I’ve doubted it once. I was afraid and sad… Sometimes, she seemed… cold. Cruel. And then… Aunt Melly told me… Mother was not the one to say she loved me, to hug me and kiss me and comfort me if I was upset. It was…” He swallowed the sob that threatened, then continued. “In the little things, yet so essential. She was there when everyone was running away, and she tried to provide when she could, even when she had to suffer for it. A bed where I could sleep. The meals she would give up for herself again and again to give it to me. The shoes she always made sure were on my feet. The… saber of my father she defied the Yankees for to protect my inheritance…”

“Oh, she did?”

“Oh yes! And they burned a part of Tara because of it… Mother almost got burnt too, trying to salvage it. Hopefully, Aunt Melly was there…”

Defiantly, the boy raised his head towards him, and Rhett was painfully remembering the determination of his mother. 

“So, sir. Don’t even dare to suggest my mother is not brave. Or is selfish.”

“No. That’d be a lie.”

Yet, it wasn’t the end of it. The boy needed to talk, so he let him. Even if it felt like salt rubbing on his wounds.

“Aunt Melly had told me: ‘see how she loves you! You must be quiet for her, then. Quiet as a mouse. Don’t disturb her. Be a good little boy. And if it’s too much to bear, come to me. Your mother, she’s the strength of Tara. But not every source is inexhaustible. We need to be her strength.’….”

Yes. The relationship between the two women had always been one that had fascinated him. Two women so different in manners and upbringing, with interests that opposed, yet that clang to each other tightly. Scarlett begrudgingly and mostly unaware of such fact. Melanie fervently, demonstratively. Yet, Scarlett’s part, though in his disappointment he had dismissed it, had been more important than he had wanted to admit. 

But it was no use now to think of every gesture, every word he had ignored. It was too painful. It was no use to think about him by himself. Especially when Wade wasn’t finished talking.

“ … And I did! I… tried to stop being angry, tried to stop to be sad. I said nothing at all, and yet… I was so afraid! She was so sad, and so tired, and I could not do anything about it!”

“You couldn’t have,” Rhett said softly. “You’ve done everything you could. Yet, you couldn’t have. No one could have. You did all you could. You are a brave, extraordinary boy, Wade. You are your aunt’s nephew. You are your mother’s son. Both of their strengths and fierceness are in you.”

But there was still that question in his eyes.

“Then why were you…”

Rhett sighed. It was one he knew he could not avoid. 

“See, Wade, I loved your mother. But… my relationship with her… had always been quite peculiar. I’m sure you have seen more than any child should have, and I’m sorry for it. I loved your mother, and that is true, even now. Always,” His voice cracked at the word. 

“I… think Mother told me something like that. Once,” Wade said, his brow furrowing in concentration. 

“Did she?” Rhett asked, the lump in his throat growing. 

The boy nodded.

“Uncle Rhett… How can people who love each other hurt each other so much?”

“Doubts. Fear. Circumstances. A war we never left… Jealousy. Sometimes the deepest love is the one that hurts the most when things go in the way.”

“It… was true then, what they said about Uncle Ashley and Mother?”

Rhett sighed and forced himself to think of it. Maybe some kisses, and that before they ever married. If it had been more, Scarlett would have been disappointed with what she got, and perhaps it would have been easier for them all. 

And then half an embrace, in memory of the past, interrupted. 

But certainly not what had circulated then, and which presented Scarlett as a seductress. He was sure of it now. His shoulders fell.

“Not the half of it,” He said wearily. “You have to know, Wade, that people do like to talk. And they do like to hate on what they don’t understand. Your mother was a strong woman, she was smart, wild, full of charms… and she was successful, doing things others wouldn’t have dared to. Some envied her but wouldn’t say. Some hated her and wanted to destroy her. And I… didn’t make her way easier.”

Far from it, he could see that. He had wanted her by his side, sharing everything she had. But he couldn’t let her in. He couldn’t let her in because loving in his life had never been without a price, a price that could be paid by others. Loving in his life could be erased, as easily as a name crossed on the first page of a bible. Love was like a whip, and you either used it on the other or you were hurt. You punished or you were punished. So he had learned to live without it. 

If she knew, she would have power over him, he had thought. If she knew, and he wasn’t certain of her, she would play him like she did with the others. And he couldn’t let it. 

Wade nodded. The embrace loosened and he put some distance with his stepfather. In his eyes, there was an expectation that confused Rhett, for he did not know quite yet what that boy wanted from him.

“You’ve done terrible things, yes. But you’ve done some great things too… she loves you, and you’ve protected her. Protected us. You’re the one who saved us in Atlanta, and you took care of us. And you’re there now…”

Rhett wanted to laugh at it, bitterly for the irony wasn’t lost on him.

She had been the only love he had wanted to sacrifice everything for, and that made him afraid. He could still remember the day in Atlanta, when she thanked him for helping them. And him thinking: ‘what am I doing there? Why couldn’t I let it be? Men are dying for a Cause they put above else nearby. Above even their wives, daughters and children. They’re dying free for their convictions, and I’m here, because she asked me. She binds me, and I let her. Damn her. Damn me. I have to escape it.’

And he did escape…

But he was never free again. If he ever was.

That day… she could have been his, wholly. She had been there, by his side, and she had needed him. She was there for the taking. He had seen it. He had feared it, of this power this girl had on him. So he had tried to lessen its importance, and take the next best thing. 

Yet, it was the cry of a boy that awakened the mother, and she did not let him. He was left with a taste of what could have been.

Just like now…

And it did not matter now who was right and who was wrong, who could be blamed. She wasn’t there, and the loss of her was the hole in his chest, in his life. 

“If I could only have her back…” He uttered, his voice almost shaking and his eyes far away, looking for her. “I would give her everything I could. Treat her the way I should have…”

Wade’s soft brown eyes lightened up considerably.

“What if I told you… I’ve seen Mother…”

Rhett raised an eyebrow. The dream was gone. And he couldn’t hope for it.

“I’ll tell you Ella did too. And I did. In my dreams. The ones that we love never quite leave us. They stay in our hearts, our memory.”

These were practical sentences, and he cursed them for saying it. But it was better than to reveal his deepest desire, that seemed to be the sign of madness.

And here the light dimed.

“You don’t understand,” The boy shook his head, a sorrowful expression on his face as he escaped his embrace. “You don’t want to understand!”

Rhett let the boy go and released a breath, burdened by all the suffering the discussion had brought, and went to bed, hoping it would stop. He looked at the wound and shrugged. He had cleaned it quickly, he wasn’t a fool. Yet, he was too tired to do more now. It would have to wait for the morrow.

Yet, it didn’t. For, through the night, he felt the fever coming to him, cold then hot, sweaty, confusing. He lost track of time, focused on a battle against that swift intrusion, without knowing when it would end. If it would end. 

And then, like a temporary light in a storm, he felt it.

He felt a soft caress on his cheek, tender and loving, a soothing freshness on his forehead. He tried to open his eyes, but it was difficult, the lids almost stuck and very much painful. He tried to fight it, and after a long time, he managed to lift it a little. His eyes skipped a bit.

Scarlett was there. She was there, her beloved shape surrounded by a hazy halo, almost blurred in his mind, her voice soft, far away as an echo of what it once had been.

Children, pets, and dying men, he remembered. Could it be?

“Am I dying?”

She froze, her hand stopped in a mid-gesture with a wet towel toward his brow. He felt her supernatural green eyes looking at him closely, like the description of the angel judging the souls in the purgatory. She finally shook her head, a slightly bemused smile drawing slowly on her lips.

“No, foolish man, that’s not your time yet. You’re just making me worry unnecessarily.”

He blinked, his eyes aching, and chuckled. “Even in death, you’re still not very soothing, my Scarlett…”

“Your…” She closed her eyes, her lips pursed, yet there was almost a wistful smile on her face. When she opened it again, and the corners of her mouth lifted, the green stones glinting. “You love me, right?”

“You… vain woman. Even dead, you still want me to say it… over… and over.”

“That’s because you say it too little, and never when you should,” She laughed slightly, yet he could see some tears gathering her lids. “You’re ill. Shh… Sleep, my dear. It’ll be better tomorrow.”

“Will you be there, tomorrow?”

She froze yet said nothing. 

Or if she had, he did not hear it. The darkness had taken him back. 

…

Soon enough, he recovered, but the image of her stayed, and he couldn’t help but question Pork one night about it, once he was in state of leaving his bed.

“Who nursed me?”

Something crossed the eyes of the servant, yet he replied smoothly.

“Well, dat’s… me, sur. Me ‘nd Prissy.”

“No one else?”

“De chillen came. Ye done call Miss Ella like her moder…”

“… Thank you, Pork.”

Oh, by God, he thought, he must have frightened the poor child with his hallucinations.

Hallucinations… yes, it couldn’t be anything but. Or maybe… Children, pets and dying people…

He considered it, a frightening idea coming to his head.

No. No, he wouldn’t do it. 

By God, she was driving him mad!

He turned away and went to play with the children. Ella welcomed it eagerly, and he saw how worried she had been. He could see now how that worry was transcribed in the game, how she was more nervous now at the memory of it, and he tried to reassure her as he could.

And there was Wade, silent, yet a participant as well. 

When the game was over, he joined him in the living room, leaving his little sister in the room, and Rhett invited him to sit by his side.

The boy radiated with guilt and nervous energy. Sighing, Rhett took him by the shoulder and embraced him silently.

“I’m sorry…” Wade began to say hurriedly.

“Why, son?”

“It was my fault… I shouldn’t have hurt you with the saber.”

“No, Wade. It would have happened anyway,” Rhett said tiredly. “See boy, sometimes one man can continue running and running to keep his heart beating. Yet, when the race ends, once he falls, it’s everything in him that falls with him, and it’s much harder to raise then.”

Wade blinked, a confused expression on his face that put wrinkles on his youthful forehead.

“I don’t understand…”

Rhett sighed.

“Son. Many things happened. The war. Bonnie… Your mother’s… disappearance. Mammy’s death. And I tried to go on with this, tried not to face it. But there’s a limit to what one man can take, and all of that made sure the moment I felt vulnerable, it would all come down anyway. Remember it, Wade. You can’t escape the shadows of your past. One day or another, you will have to face them. And it doesn’t matter if you fall during the fight. What matters is that you raise again to live. Now go to sleep, Wade. It had been a long day.”

The boy looked at him one last time before obeying, and Rhett was left alone.

He took the bottle he had brought, lifted it, then stopped. 

Now. He couldn’t do it just now. He needed to keep a clear mind during the preparations. 

The next morning, he came to town and sent instructions for his will, the last straw to his plan. It would certainly pick Adrian’s interest. 

Jordan, Randall gone. Adrian, and then Olsen in the end.

Soon, that joyous little gang would be gone. Adrian certainly the last, for he was the most cunning of the group. But soon. 

He’d be damned if he died before that!

So he continued, made the necessary last meetings and purchases. 

…

Rhett was on the way home when he found on the road of Tara a black woman slipping through it. First, she did not seem to recognize him, but then she took a step back. He focused on her face and a light of recognition came to him. He took a step forward, curious.

“Oh. You again. I did not expect it.”

Pansy looked at him warily, before sending swift glances at her sides, as if to verify something. 

“This is the place where I grew up.”

Amused, Rhett cocked an eyebrow at her, then tried to remember. 

“Did you?”

Pansy grinned nervously and continued hurriedly.

“I was… Miss Ellen’s keys’ bearer. Following her everywhere. I was so small at that time, I must have passed as…"

“I wasn’t asking about your story," He dismissed, irritated.

“Charming,” She commented, her dark eyes glaring once, before it was replaced by a bland look. “And I thought someone told me you had a way with women.”

He faltered and searched into this woman’s features closely. She knew something, yes, but what did she know? There was in her tone an insolence he had mostly seen in Scarlett and that until then he had never perceived in Pansy, and he wondered what other characteristics might have taken the servant from her mistress. And what she might have said to her.

Once again, the need rose, to talk of her, yet he stifled it. Not with that woman. She was no friend of his, and the idea that she had talked with his wife, perhaps more than he had during these days with her gave him a sour taste, akin to jealousy. 

“You’re not hiding anymore.”

“With you?” She chuckled, and it had a bitter tinge to it. “It’s no use now, is it? You… always knew it, right?”

“I’m neither blind nor deaf.”

She rolled her eyes.

“No, of course, you know everything about anything.”

His heart stopped a little, for these words had been uttered so many times during his quarrels with Scarlett that he couldn’t help but remember it vividly and wish she was there, her eyes blazing as she attempted to counter his jeers with hers. It was the only time he thought he could have power over her, that time, yet now he could see it had only been an illusion, and these words were a sign of her hurt and the crumbling of his marriage before he was even out of her bed. 

“Careful,”. He narrowed his eyes. “Why are you here?”

She shrugged, yet her little acts did not convince him. What was she hiding?

“Nostalgia. Miss Scarlett…’s children. And my mother still lives nearby. You made quite an impression on her.”

He rolled his eyes.

“I wonder how.”

She snickered. “Well, I didn’t know you were such a superstitious man.”

That’s where it clicked. 

“Your mother is that gypsy from Marietta, isn’t it?”

“No,” She said with a grin. “That’s my aunt. My mother is Mammy Jincy.”

He was almost tempted to laugh at him, him that always could laugh at himself. Yet there had always been only one person he had felt comfortable to laugh with, and she wasn’t there. 

“The world is too damned little,” He cursed. “So you all laughed at my expanse, wasn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” She shrugged good-naturedly. “The underworld is not something to laugh at. There are in this world forces unknown…”

“Do what you want there and go,” He scolded before his voice softened. “I think the children will be happy to see you.”

…

And indeed, the children were. The three of them seemed to joyously conspire with one another, and Rhett felt a little jealousy at this. But at least it gave him the time to talk to some of his men, that had come in the morning. 

Andrew and Alphonse, two brothers that had stayed with him during his blockade years. Strangely loyal, yet awfully shy against the fairer sex. They were discreet, and they were strong. He knew he could count on them.

He would not do the same mistake twice. 

“Don’t leave them,” He told them. “Even one second. Keep them far away from my room. If something goes wrong, take them back to Atlanta.”

They looked at him and nodded, and he continued to prepare, till soon enough the sun set, the sky taking the red of the earth of Scarlett’s beloved Tara.

It will soon be over, he thought. Whether with the men dead, whether with him. The children would be safe, no matter what. It was all in place. He had made sure of it. 

Yet, how lonely he felt at that time! And how that loneliness brought him memories, and these dreams, feelings he could not stifle! 

An idea came to him. Crazy, but then since she left him, what hadn’t? In such a frustratingly lonely night, he wanted to believe.

Her ghost was there, he had seen it. He did not doubt it anymore. It was her that had welcomed the soul of Mammy, and it was her that had been by his side when he thought himself dying… Oh, if his mind could summon here once more, before all was over!

He went to the nearest tavern, took more than one drink to and brought back a woman with him, to that room Scarlett had once slept in. 

She giggled pleasantly at his arm, and he made sure not to go too close to the children’s rooms. She was still in that state when he settled her on the bed. She tasted of cheap brandy and betrayal, but it would do, even if to forget… 

He heard the sound of porcelain breaking, and it gave him back the memories of a day in the County. Of a girl, disappointed in her loves…

His heart awakened and he turned his head to the noise.

She was there, his beloved, his wife! It had been a gamble, but it had worked!

And now… Oh, her black hair shined with the moonlight, and her skin seemed almost translucent. Yes… an Irish fairy like in these legends, beautiful but lethal…

“Oh, you rascal!” She scolded, outraged. “I’m dead a few days, and here you are, dishonoring me with… God’s Nightgown! Where does she even come from?”

A few days… He was tempted to laugh. Were days passing so slowly in the in-between she was in? Days, how it seemed inconsequent when he had in his mind and heart the true number of weeks, days, hours, and minutes! 

The woman he brought home let out a cry of fright, her skin pale, so much that he thought she would faint. Yet she raised and ran like a madwoman, and he barely spare her a glance.

“I think you made her flee,” He dully remarked. 

Oh, she was seething, burning with a wrath that raised and raised. 

He looked at her in wonder. 

“Oh, darling….” He whispered, raising lightly to meet her, subjugated yet not wanting her to run from him like a frightened animal. “So I was right, then. You became one of these white ladies, that come to haunt the men that wronged them?”

She seemed bewildered at that, her green eyes widened almost comically. 

Yet, of this he saw nothing but the way her shift tantalizingly hugged her curves. She seemed an apparition that was about to evaporate at any time. He cocked his head to one side.

“You’ve taken your pretty damn time,” He stated almost jeeringly, feeling rejuvenated. “I was getting desperate. But then I knew your greedy little soul wouldn’t like it if your man takes another woman to bed, let alone in that home you always return. I knew it just had to return once more. Oh no, don’t get angry, my beloved,” He raised, opening his arms for her as red came to her face. “Come, take your poor undeserving husband into your arms. Squeeze until he gets lost in you, and you’ll have no choice but to take his soul with you. Come… I’ll follow you.”

“Oh…!” She stamped her foot on the floor, a frown and a pout on her beloved face. How her eyes glinted so! She always was so tempting when she was angry, when the emotion put pink on her pale cheeks, reddened the already red lips, and put additional sparks to these emeralds he coveted so. “Now, that’s too much!”

As she turned away in anger, his heart dropped and, in his haste to catch her, he tripped, falling on his knees. Yet, he managed to catch her hand, that he gripped with both of his. 

“Oh, sweet ghost, queen of my living hell, my darling  _ dame blanche _ , don’t leave. Scarlett!! Haunt me, just a little more. I have wronged you so, and I await my punishment.”

She turned back, looking at him with narrowed eyes and he almost smirked, not insensitive to the dramatic scene he was making. Yet, it seemed she had no such humor, as she tried to escape him once again. 

“You’re drunk and saying nonsense. Let me go.”

He relented, kissing her knuckles and pressing it on his chest. 

“So I am, my darling, my wife, my soul, and I’m thankful for that if it means I can see you…”

She sighed, irritated, yet with pink glowing on her cheeks.

“Enough with the endearments, let’s get you to bed.”

He stared at her, raised on his feet and nodded, his eyes suddenly twinkling with a mixture of drunken curiosity and desire as he considered it.

“Oh, yes, I’ll get you to bed. Can a ghost be kissed? be loved? Well, I shall certainly try…”

“Whaa…”

Yet, she could not continue for he pulled her to him, his lips catching hers in a frenzy he could not control. 

Oh, how could he forget the softness of these lips, their tender shape against his, opening for him with so few efforts? How could he forget the sensual pressure of it, begging for more, and promising more? How could he forget that body, slim yet curvaceous, the feeling of it pressed against him as he put his arms around her?

“Your skin is warm…” He said between his kisses. “Had death loved you so much that it did not want you to be cold? Here… Let me love you. Let your poor husband get warm in your embrace. He has been cold for too long without you. He had missed you so…”

Not bearing anymore the flash of her eyes that was breaking his heart with a love that threatened to burst from his chest, he turned her and pressed her back against him, his lips grazing the roots of her hair, from temple to the lobe of her ear, in fervent kisses. She gasped and struggled a little against his grip.

Oh, it seemed he was holding a little bird between his palm, nervous and defiant! He feared to crush her if he held her too tight, or that she flew away from him if the hold was loose. How he wanted to embrace her tightly against him, to mark her as his and erase the ban death had put on her!

Yet it was not to be if he wanted to keep her, he realized, so he refrained the animal in him that wanted to take and fight and focused on what he felt he could control with more efficiency. 

With fiddling fingers, he found himself combing the glistening threads of the black silk of her hair, gathering them in a tight braid. He counted each strand, carving them into memory, yet it felt not nearly enough with the intoxicating scent of her teasing his nostrils. His voice was thick and warm on her ear, and it seemed his heart was hanging on every word with a painful longing he could not repress.

“Craved you so…”

She stayed still. Softly, delicately, she tilted her head to his side, looking at him askance, bright cat’s eyes lightening in the night. He pulled the hair lightly, shaking his head. In his belly, a demon roared and raged, purred and pleaded, trapped in a fragile cage.

“Rhett…”

She shivered, her upper lip slightly quivering when his palms grazed her shoulder, the braid done. He shook his head, laying his forehead on the back of her head, kissing the top of it and crossing his arms around her. 

“Oh, my dear… Please, do not wake me from that dream…”

After a time, he felt her relax against him, a soft sigh leaving her lips.

Tenderly yet firmly, he took off each layer that covered his love, and kissed her all over, vanquishing her resistance, to worship her like he had always prevented himself to, for fear she would see it as an act of weakness, until she was left shaking and crying. It broke the silence, a delicious melody to his ears. He sighed. 

“I love you…”

“Oh, Rhett!”

“Yes, say my name… I love you…”

Oh, how the view was sweet! Quivering lips and rosy cheeks, and deep, deep emerald sea glinting back at him! The smooth, pure cream of her skin, glinting in the moonlight only for his eyes to see, only for his hands to touch…

“Rhett…! I love… I love…”

“Sshhh… I know, honey. I know….” He caressed her cheek, overwhelmed by the hazy fever in her eyes. Trembling with desire, he kissed the sweet bud of her lips and gathered her against him, burying his nose on the crook of her neck. Yes, magnolia, rosewater… maybe a little hint of jasmine. And something a little salty and earthy, but that wasn’t displeasing to his nostrils… Could it be the clay of Tara? Had the good, red earth of Tara given back an envelope to the soul that had loved it so? “Oh, I can’t live without you…”

He intertwined their fingers and kissed it. Oh, it seemed all so true, these fingers that he was gripping, and for a moment, he could believe she was truly by his side. 

He sighed in longing agony and embraced her tighter. She was warm against him, warm and palpable, yet he knew it couldn’t be. How could it be? His mind had been playing tricks on him for too long, and yet, he wanted to keep plunging into that dream, into that illusion, and heaven and hell be damned. All that he wanted, all that he loved, all of it was gathered in his arms, for they were two creatures tied to one another by the same thread, heart against heart, skin against skin. It felt like no mortal love, inconstant and pliable. It was a feeling of eternity, a peace after the darkness of war and he wanted to hold on to it a little longer. 

“It will soon be over, my love. Soon, we’ll be together.”

Her lashes fluttered leisurely, her lips still frozen on a half hazy smile. 

“Mmm… What?”

“They will come to Tara. And I’ll make them stop,” He nuzzled her ear with his nose, closing his eyes. “Olsen is already lurking around the corners, trying to set the house on fire….”

He felt her stiffen in his arms, her eyes widening as she looked closely at his face.

“You…” She tried to escape from his arms, yet his arms were too strong, too tight. “What have you done?”

He shook his head, not willing to open his eyes.

“Sshh… No, please, my sweet ghost… Stay a little longer…”

“Rhett…” He heard her whisper, pleading, urging. He tightened his embrace, gripping the braid he made like a chain that would prevent her from slipping away.

“The night isn’t over yet… Please… Don’t leave me again in the dark, Scarlett…”

His voice was on the verge of breaking, so tight was that lump in his throat that had formed insidiously at the threat of her disappearing again before his eyes. She said nothing more, did not struggle anymore. She went still, a little tense maybe, yet she was there and he could imagine her pulse, quick like a rabbit’s, on his skin. His muscles relaxed, at peace, and he pulled her closer to him.

When he woke up, his fist was tightly gripping a braid of straight black hair. Freshly cut.

There had been no dream. No haunting. No imagination, nor delirium. 

Scarlett was very much alive. And she had visited him.


	32. Chapter 32

Death had decidedly its moments, and Scarlett realized it as soon as she escaped a house on fire and found refuge in Pansy's little housing. With an ecstatic and crazy moment of relief, she realized she was alive and kicking, at least for another day. For once in what seemed forever, no rule written or implicit could apply to her. She felt free, for the first time in her life. No one could stop her, no one would try. No one could suspect her anymore, and every proof against her would be dismissed as a sign of madness. She could run wild if she wanted it, and just the fact of knowing it was somehow the most exhilarating on earth. She was remembering her first weeks of honeymoon with Rhett, when she was introduced to so many things in a so deliciously free manner. It was a time when she could forget for a moment she was Scarlett O'Hara Butler, mother, sister, and wife. She was a being with no burden, for a time, a very irritating being, Pansy commented with a vexing disapproving frown, and she could go wherever she wanted to go, whenever she wanted to.

It was almost in an afterthought she urged Pansy to go to the police office as planned, her mind not being numbed enough to see that her death could be useful to their plans.

"Death might be the only way out". Until then, she did not understand that it did not necessarily mean her actual death, but the fact that people _thought_ of her dead. And indeed, it proved to be the solution to quite a lot of problems.

Then, there was the fact that suddenly everyone seemed to love her and praised her, even better than her previous dreams of being called "Lady Bountiful". Everyone seemed to remember all her good deeds finally, and added to that such fantastic things her vanity and confidence, which had been wounded over and over during all these years, found a great delight in it. It was also with a guilty pleasure she found out Rhett, who had been so praised at her expanse, was beginning to be vilified in an intriguing turn of the tables.

For a time, she could forget everything and just be. She could be whatever she wanted, and no one could stop her. Not even Pansy, Aren, Patrick, and Todd. In fact, Patrick seemed to find it amusing, while Todd admired her openly for finding pleasure in such a desperate state. They couldn't understand the feeling of restraining themselves over and over and being judged for every slip.

Pansy and Aren… it was more complicated. But somehow, they seemed to understand, and that fact made her realize, by a sudden instant of empathy, they may have faced a similar thing, perhaps even worse than her with the status they had.

Yet, in two or three days, all of this lost all its novelty soon enough and left her with longing and sorrow she had concealed until then. Then it broke entirely, when, pushed by her vanity that wanted to hear the sumptuous speeches in her honor, she dared to come to her own funerals. Well disguised, with a scowling Pansy at her side, she listened to it gladly, until Suellen's part awakened an upsetting feeling in her. She dismissed it. After all, it was Suellen. Always making a scene.

The worst came when Rhett stood up. She had hiccoughed, shaken at first by the vulnerability in him, surprised not to have seen him before in the crowd. But when she saw him, her heart went out, calling him and she cried for him. She wanted to reveal herself to him, to stop these wicked words that were said about him, about them and take him into her arms. She wanted to tell the truth, to protect him from harm to the risk of forgetting all the risks that could happen was she found to be in fact alive.

She was about to.

And then he destroyed her coffin, cursing her forever.

Literal as she was, especially with such a shock, she took it by the letter. He hated her. No love was left in him for her. She was dead, and the only thing that was left for her was an intense hatred that made sure he would try to kill her if he knew.

It was with a new frenzy she became even wilder. But the deed was done. She was beginning to remember everything. She was remembering her running in the house, trying to get everyone out. She was remembering their cries, her worries for the children left in Tara, for that land she loved so much. Worries for that man she loved so much, and who left her with a shattered heart and a deep uncertainty in her future. She was remembering the chest hidden in the study, the plans she had slipped in it, which urged her to take it, hurting her feet in the process on some sharp object. She was remembering Patrick and Aren coming to her rescue when the ceiling was beginning to fall on her. She was remembering her heart racing, her blankness of thoughts, as if her body had taken control to find a way to survive and she had lost consciousness all the way, her feet aching and her hands hurting from gripping the handle of the chest so much.

When it was broken, it all came down.

All of his words, all of her words came back to her, and she couldn't hold them back anymore.

She realized in fact she never was really free, for the moment it was established she was alive, some would come after her and those she cared about the most.

She had to go back to Tara. She had to find a way to get back to her life, to save it.

But before that, there were things she had to settle. For once in her life, she had to do the right and moral thing for others than her own folks in a quite immoral way.

Well, she had to admit scaring that old crow of Mother Superior by playing ghost was fun as well as it was useful. It was an act of sweet revenge for looking down on her. And she very much appreciated the statue Rhett commanded in her memory. Yet, it seemed it was only for pretend, for soon enough the act ceased, and he reverted to his bad ways and cursed her once again.

All these nights, she wanted to see him, for real, not these stolen moments when she could slip in his room, taking the place of the charwoman and look after him. It was not enough to kiss his brow and caress his cheek. She wanted him to put his arms around her so she could comfort him and take that burden that seemed to lay on his shoulders. She wanted his eyes to open, and the blood to leave it, the anger to disappear. She wanted to be comforted by him to tell and be told that everything would be alright. 

He hated her and she loved him. It hurt her, but she knew she deserved it. But he was also her strength and she needed him, and even the knowledge of his hatred was not enough to stop her. So she would fight for him, for their children. And he would never know.

Yet, the children… With everything that had happened, people were pulling them apart and it tore at her like wild horses quartering her body to pieces. Was Rhett's hatred affecting the children as well? She had been so sure he would take care of them…

In a moment of self-depreciation that was still unusual to her, she told herself she was to blame for it, she was misery to them all, better off dead. Yet, her pull to life and her own practical sense were even stronger and she realized she could do more while being alive.

Could she make the children grieve so, worry so, if she could avoid it? Could she really abandon them, leaving them thinking she was dead?

She had to fight for them; fight for him because she loved him so and could not bear to see him like that. She would be the shadow that looked after them, sheltering them from people that wanted them harm.

That's when she decided, along with other schemes helped by a skeptical Pansy, to publish her story in a newspaper. This would be the indirect way, she realized after a rare deep reflection, to make them see she was alright, and she loved them, and she would try to see them whenever she could. It seemed crazy, quite haphazardous. Yet it worked, and Pansy found her way in Uncle Henry's home, enough time so that Wade be aware of it. It allowed them to communicate in some way.

Only their little family knew what it meant. Only they could understand. And even if Pansy was out of Henry's house, the deed was done. 

It stopped for a time, for finally, she found a way to go back to her home without attracting much attention.

It was thanks to a talk with Pansy, that she realized things that could be of use to her. Pansy's family, to be precise, and while the knowledge of Pansy having been the child bearing the keys of her deceased mother had come back to her a few days after she hired her as a mammy, she had not been aware of her links to the gypsy world. When the name of Mammy Jincy and of that gypsy that had predicted her future (she learned she was called Brunhilda) not so long ago came to her ears, she felt it was fate.

Or at least a very bad joke.

The world was so little, she had thought with a newfound amusement. Soon enough she negotiated to travel with them, from Marietta to Jonesboro, and left instructions for Todd to follow. Aren came with her, and it was at that time she learned he had been part of a circus at a time, an assistant to the magician in place. Illusions had no secret to him, and he fitted in this world as if it was a well-tailored glove. Well, that could be useful, she thought.

And then there was Patrick, who had resolved to follow her everywhere, and who was welcomed with enthusiasm for his impressive height. He was soon labeled the "Irish Giant", despite his protest that he was a true Scot, and not to be confounded with that other people.

She visited Melly's grave one last time and left.

And so began her travel back to home. Yet, the travel was much more than what she had expected at first.

These men and women, former darkies and outcasts, that she had been raised to consider as children that had to be gently taken care of, that needed guidance… Now, she deeply realized it wasn't so, and that when she was the one needing guidance, they provided it with a strength and an intelligence she felt herself lacking. It was with a newfound humility she adapted to their ways. They provided her with a disguise, darkened her fair skin so she looked like a mulatto, and showed them the trick that would change her voice.

With them, she learned to hide better, and to that, she remembered also her own tricks as a Southern Belle. With the urgency of her situation she focused on that in the same way she had once for obtaining money.

Had she reflected on it, she would have also realized another event had pushed it, and it was when, almost arrived at Morrow, a Southerner and his friends accosted their group and tried to make light of the women in it. Feeling another's arms around her and being insulted was even more hurtful when she realized these arms belonged to one she knew, and who once had been her beau.

The event was hopefully cut short when members of the bureau came to protect them, but even if she tried to dismiss it as a little accident, the impact stayed.

This thing was like a stone crushing her memories, those of the men she had been raised with during her childhood, who petted her, flattered her. It broke like shattered glass, the cracks cutting her deep. She wanted to scream, to deny it, to say it wasn't her fault and that it was in the past. Yet it kept cracking and cracking, and she began to question everything. Her Pa, that had only whipped a darky once and apologized after doing it. Her soft-spoken mother… Them and their soft voices, and slow moves, and debonair attitudes. A doubt, a terrible doubt came to her, and she couldn't shake it.

So she continued to learn and hoped. Soon, she would go to Tara, and everything would be alright.

Yet it was the next night that the other women began to talk, the event reviving their memories. They talked of masters never telling them they were free until a man of the Union came. They talked of masters raping, and cutting their slaves. They talked of bloodhounds chasing them as they tried to escape. And she couldn't make them stop, and her whole life was cracking under her eyes. She wanted to put her hands on her eyes and ears like a child, not to think about it as she learned to when she was hungry and lonely, with the need of so many people to satisfy. She didn't want to think about it because it hurt so, and because the words of others, the behaviors of others and her own were ringing back to her and she couldn't stop it. Mother always said darkies were like children. Father and his outbursts, his tender heart. Ashley telling her slavery was better and more honorable than the work of convicts. Her attack at Shantytown, and the revenge of the Ku Klux Klan, Ashley, Frank, Dr. Meade and Uncle Henry in their troops. The cold pride in the women's eyes, and the way they said it was done to protect them.

How many people, dark people, innocent and guilty, had been killed that day? All because they wanted to make a point? All because she was attacked? Her fault, but was it hers only? Oh, at that time, how she had mocked the women that said they had been attacked, thinking they wanted their men to die for them to avenge them? She had been no better, but she never asked for it! No, she didn't!

What have they been fighting for? Where was the good side of the fight, the bad? It was all so mixed up and she couldn't find out an answer. She almost felt relief when finally the journey ended. 

They said goodbye to her joyfully on the road of Tara and she ran home, a little girl running to her mother for comfort. Yet, that mother was changed since the last time she had seen her. Or was it? The fields of cotton had been severely reduced, the façade wasn't as white and clean as it had been. The land was wild, the pines invading. What had Will been doing? Had it been on the way of such disaster the last time she was in there? She couldn't remember quite now, could only remember the sorrow she had been in. 

It did not come into her mind that while security had been found in Atlanta thanks to Rhett and her own savings, Will did not have the same fortune, and could not bear to tell his problems and be helped by a woman when he thought he would one day be able to raise back. And there was also the problems of keeping the employees working, and his invading pain in the leg, that was hindering more and more his movements. Of that he had never disclosed, and she had stayed blissfully unaware.

Her heart on her throat, she opened the door and found her dearest Mammy, who looked at her with wide, tearful eyes, paling as if she had seen a ghost.

"I'm home," Scarlett had said, wearily. "I've come home."

The wide eyes had been soon enough replaced with her disapproval glance, and she realized she hadn't had the time to clean herself and was still very much looking like a gypsy.

Yet, the fact that Mammy had recognized her even in such a state… It gripped her heart, filling her with love, and she let herself be pampered, the cloud being broken only when Mammy said she was going to reveal to Rhett she was here.

No, he mustn't know, Scarlett urged. Not now, when everything was all uncertain. Not now when it was all dangerous, and men would try to take what was theirs soon. Not now when her ears still rang from his words and his hatred. She couldn't face him. Not yet.

Oh, that day on the stairs, she had shot in the dark, telling him she knew he loved her still, and she thought she had seen some glimpses. Yet how could she be sure? Nothing had ever been really sure about him, and she didn't want to get hurt anymore. What if he had indeed played with her?

Oh, then, why had he looked so crestfallen?

But if he loved her, why had he cursed her? Why had he destroyed her coffin?

After so many misunderstandings, could a happy ending be ever possible? And if he knew, would he still love her, or another of these would come between them again? She couldn't risk that. Couldn't risk her heart anymore. He had run on her once, telling her that, and now she understood. She had enough of the anger, enough of the sadness. She only wanted peace, even if it did not seem reachable.

Mammy was going to do this anyway, yet was only stopped when Scarlett, exhausted, fainted on her, tears running down her cheeks.

Hopefully, the children were away, and she almost thanked Uncle Henry for that, even if there was still the pain of knowing them apart and away from Rhett.

No, she couldn't trust him. She could only trust herself. So she worked and worked, and finally convinced Mammy.

That was when Scarlett realized another thing was wrong, and her caregiver begrudgingly told her.

Prissy had locked herself with the orphans in the cellar, and would not leave it.

It was with painful persuasions and long talks she realized her servant, that had been so useless and foolish in the most crucial parts of her life, deeply cared for them, and would never let them go out of her sight.

But then who was she to judge? What did she know exactly?

She shrugged it off wearily, then she planned her next steps. And added quite the fantasy.

Playing ghost had worked for her, it seemed. People were naturally scared of ghosts, for it remembered them everything they had done wrong, all their losses.

Tara would be her own haunted house, and once she managed to contact Aren and Todd, she bullied them until they agreed to give her some material for it.

It was a distraction and it would give them time, hopefully giving some apprehension to their enemies so the ultimate confrontation would be in another place.

Mammy was suspicious of all these strange people coming and going to the house, and even more disapproving. Once again she threatened on telling everything to Rhett. But what could Rhett do? Perhaps he was far away now, unreachable. Perhaps he had gone back to Charleston, to his roots. He couldn't do anything for her, and she couldn't afford to wait for him, she told herself. She couldn't afford his anger at seeing she was alive, couldn't afford not to know if he still loved her enough to face what he surely would see as a lie and a betrayal.

It kept her from sleeping at dark, running in her mind and hindering her to sleep. If he loved her, he would have seen, she justified herself. If he wanted to find her, he would have, for now that she was at Tara, she could see she had not been the most discreet ghost ever. It wasn't only her meeting with the Mother Superior, who she knew had spilled her misadventures to the world. It was also in the visits to his room, where she once left a handkerchief.

She had wanted for him to find her, she realized. She had wanted it, but he hadn't found her. And he hadn't found her because he did not love her anymore. Because he hated her. Proof was that it had affected her poor children, and she was to blame, once again.

It was heavy-hearted she revealed everything with Mammy and made her promise not to tell anything. And it was with the same heavy heart that Mammy, even if she knew it was wrong, accepted. Yet she did help and gave advice, especially when Scarlett once was almost wounded by a scared speculator coming to the land at night to have a first sight of it.

Yet, it contributed to the legend and soon enough, the neighborhood was talking of ghosts wandering around the house.

And then Rhett came to Tara, with Wade and Ella by his side.

She was forced to move from her room to the attic, yet at least, they were there!

He was there! Certainly, it had to mean something! And even if he was mostly drunk every night, he did not seem angry (though he had always managed to hide it so well, so who could know?), and how well he treated the children!

And how heartfelt was the reunion, by night, with the children! She had embraced them fiercely, telling them how sorry she had been for worrying them so. Making them promise not to tell Rhett had been hard, especially to Wade. If Ella could understand it like a game, Wade was more conflicted, and he let out he had already been keeping a secret from her because of Rhett.

Well, it did not matter, she decided. She was not curious. Not in the least.

And it was then that, without meaning to, she admitted she was apprehensive of Rhett's reaction, and Wade made her promise that if he found a proof he wasn't and still wanted her, she would reveal herself to him.

Without she meant to, hope filled her heart when she had tried to push it away, and she almost forgot she had other reasons for not telling him. But how could she explain to Wade such things without him being afraid?

No, she had to protect him from that aspect of life, when she couldn't about her relationship with her husband. And it gave him hope, and how could she crush it?

Numerous times, she was almost caught. Many times, it was because Wade or Ella treacherously called Rhett when she was there, and she was forced to find a good hiding spot for him not to discover her so soon.

Then, there was that time when, lounged on her chair with that damn kitten Ella adored, he woke up to it hissing at her, and she had to hide in the wardrobe, watching him through the holes petting it back to calmness.

She clung to love like a lifebuoy and that hope stayed. And most of the time, not being able to move, she stayed in the attic, rummaging around to fill her frustratingly idle hours.

So many things were happening, and she was like a prisoner in her own house, forced to even hide to mourn her beloved Mammy, when she wanted to scream for it.

Oh, Mammy! So strong, so caring! She so terribly needed her, and how could she let her go?

Yet she had to, and Mammy's words rang to her mind until she was forced to accept it. It was a poor comfort to have stayed with her until the end, when she wasn't even able to attend her funerals and gave her the grave she deserved? 

And then, there was this terrible, terrible book.

 _Jane Eyre,_ by Charlotte Bronte.

It was a book Suellen had bought, for she had always loved reading scandalous love stories, hoping to be the heroine that would snatch the man in the end. The story of a governess, in love with her employer, an employer that sounded so much like Rhett sometimes she wanted to cry!

By God, she wasn't going to be the madwoman hidden in the attic while her husband frolicked with a mealy-mouthed ninny who wanted to take her place in her bed and in her children's hearts!

The book finished, the pages concerning the horrifying scenes of love torn apart, it was with an impulse she decided to reveal herself to him, and to hell the consequences.

Yet he was there, in her room. With a fast woman. Not even a poor orphan girl with a terrible childhood and qualities that made her remember painfully her beloved Melly.

Oh, she could have killed him! She could have thrown everything until it hit their heads, both of them, and buried them besides that Yankee deserter. Why, how he had buried her so quickly! Oh, a great love, he had talked about! Great love, my foot!

Yet what happened next… Oh, what happened next! Her anger could not even resist it, outnumbered by the longing and the sorrow, and the feeling of him by her side. It did not resist his power, that strength that radiated from his body when she so deeply needed him!

He loved her! He loved her! He told her he did, and she knew he did. He only did that because he thought it would make her appear!

Why, how fervently he had…

She blushed, remembering it, the burn deep on her cheeks, making her feel hazy.

Oh, but then the moment was ruined when she heard him talk about Olsen trying to burn the house. 

What kind of foolishness had he planned? She thought, dismayed. How could he even think of it so easily? Of course, she had to do something!

Which brought her here. In a very old inn that once had been a luxurious place, sitting lazily at the bedside of Hugh Olsen, waiting for that scoundrel to wake up.

Sighing, she put a hand on her head, feeling this time the loss of her long hair keenly. She had always been proud of it, for they were shiny and thick. Yet, she soon turned it so finally it wasn't so bad. After all, everything was better when a hat could cover it.

He could keep the braid. No, indeed, with the trick he had pulled, attracting these men to Tara so they could burn it, he did not deserve her going back to him! He that had had such an obsession with her hair, pulling it, threatening when she wanted to add lovely accessories to it that he did not approve! In fact, it was his fault, gripping so hard her braid, so she was forced to cut it! How could she leave the room when every time she tried, he pulled?

Well, he could keep that obsession and go to Halifax if she cared! Did he not respect her at all? Did he not respect her home?

It was with that mindset she stayed, and it did not come to her mind that it was only momentaneous due to her anger, and that in fact she very much intended to come back.

She sighed once again, bored by the waiting of the old man waking up. Couldn't he make it quick? She hadn't much time in the world! And these clothes were so big and unflattering on her she thought she would scream.

Then he finally did, and his eyes widened at her sight. He gripped his cover like a child in front of a nightmare and she almost smirked at it.

"You…" He stuttered. "You're dead! It can't be!"

"Oh, don't you remember, my dear Olsen?" She simpered silkily. "You killed me. Now, it's your turn."

At this, the man paled, and she heard his breath ragging. Then nothing. His eyes went dull, squinting. Lifeless.

She blinked. Closed her eyes, opened them again. Yet, the scenery had not changed. 

Surprised, she checked his pulse, as Aren once taught her to do. Nothing.

She wanted to laugh, the pistol trembling in her hand.

Well, that was too easy. A heart attack. She left the room, shock in her like ants over her body, but with an excitement that was a bit similar to when she left the house in Peachtree Street.

Saying killing did not affect her in any way for she already did with a Yankee deserter and a man that was trying to kill her was one thing. Yet actually doing so was another, and it did not come to her mind that, had it happened differently, she would have had much more difficulties to do it.

She dusted her gown and left the room. But as she did that, she saw at the opposing end of the corridor Lord Richard Fenton. Lord Fenton who was supposed to be in jails, courtesy of hers.

Oh, why wasn't he there? Why did bad things have to happen once she thought she was safe?

He did not see her yet, but soon, he may. Or did he? She wasn't quite sure now.

Swiftly, she left it and joined Todd downstairs as he was sipping some liquor that tantalizing looked like good brandy.

Seeing her, he bowed lightly with a grin.

"My lady…"

"No time, Lancelot," She hushed, softening her interruption. "It's done. And.. I've seen Lord Fenton."

"What?"

"Go ahead and meet me at seven. I need to distract his attention. He's up to something, and I must know what. If I don't appear, tell the others. And…" She hesitated. "Tell Rhett."

If something happened... No, she wouldn't think about it.

He stared at her, suddenly alert, then nodded, and escaped.

Well, he was not the kind of gentleman to stay and fight for a lady in distress, she had learned, despite his wishes to appear so. Yet, she knew she could count on him to tell the others if she did not appear.

She considered her options. No matter what, she'd have to face Richard, she realized. She needed information, especially when Rhett did not seem to be including his presence in that little crazy plan of his. So she waited and sipped in Todd's glass, until finally, two men asked her to follow them. She nodded calmly and raised, and they took her by the arms. She was forced to follow to a tiny, dark room, and not even her attempts at making light of the situation made them crack a smile. And she was supposed to have no sense of humor!

They released her and left the room and she wanted to curse at them, but then she stopped.

On a desk was sat Richard, looking at her with a frown and set jaws. On the corner, there was a dark-haired man she remembered from the ball and she almost cringed. Yet, she knew she had to play another role. She had to try, at least. The role of the naïve, stupid with love woman had always pleased Richard after all.

"You. There." He stated, trying to appear nonchalant, yet failing at doing so.

She looked at him, affecting her best expression of surprise, then jumped with a cheerful cry in his arms, her hands at the back of his neck.

Surprised by that reaction, he pushed away a little, blinking. If he had been expecting fear, she certainly disappointed him. Even worse for him, she disconcerted him.

"Oh, my love, I…" She said.

His brow was raised in an attempt to taste the humor of it, yet his eyes were blazing. 

"Oh, so I am your love, then?"

"Of course you are," She said with a smile that did not reach her eyes. "I thought you were in prison, my lord. I was sorry to hear it."

"No doubt you were. And if you're not, you will be."

She fluttered her lashes lazily, working on her dimples like a fool.

"I'm not sure I understand you, my lord."

He turned away from her, pushing her from him, and she could see he was trying to gather his thought by putting the desk between them. She had to stop it.

"I say you played me a mean trick, my lady. Fortunately, some unfortunate little scoundrel could be found to replace me in that jail you wanted to put me in."

"A trick? Me, wanting you in jail? My lord, I think you misunderstood," She lied with a concerned face, contouring the desk and putting her hand close, so close to his. "Oh, I was so distressed! My house was burning down, and I couldn't find you!

He wavered.

"Yet, you did not wait for me."

"I was so afraid, I think I fainted a little, and when I woke up, I kept running and running…"

There. Doubt creeping at him. She would soon have him!

"And… how do you explain these papers you put in your box? That pretty box you made me buy?"

Her eyes, alert, came to his face and there was a pleading light she did not have to feign, for she truly was fearing what he might do. She needed to get the control back, and quickly.

"Pansy! Oh, I knew she was working against me! She's always been an insolent little negress. And she's always been working with those that did not like me in Atlanta, like India Wilkes or Dolly Merriwether. She must have kept the papers for herself and sold it to Rhett so he could get that petroleum, and I'm sure he was the one to put it there! He always did rummage through my things…" She pouted. "They knew how I love you so, and all of them, they wanted my name and yours by extension to be linked to that scandalous affair with that… Watling's shameful house! You know how they dislike foreigners in my country…"

She winced at the word, feeling painfully disloyal to the one she claimed the friendship of and who helped her so much. Yet, it was her skin she had to save, for how could she try to protect those she cared about if she was dead? And then, Pansy was safe, and she knew how to hide better even than herself! Why, she was far already!

She tried to reassure herself of that, but she couldn't. Her glimpse of that other world that had been so close to hers, yet very much separate and hidden to her sight was still needling at her like a bee's sting.

"Please, you have to believe me! I never did anything to betray you!"

She imagined it was Rhett she was facing, and the tears glinted through her lashes with a desperate, loving glow that fascinated Richard and flattered him so he felt himself filled with masculine confidence. He had the power over that silly, handsome woman, and oh, what could he do with that power?

Yet, he had to affect a most indifferent state, so she might give a little more than that. He wouldn't be the one to be caught, after all.

"And where is… that insolent little negress of yours?"

"Oh, I don't know," She said quickly. "You see, I was in such a fright I fled without inquiring about it. And when I woke up, I ran and ran and took the next station to Jonesboro, where I knew I would be safe."

"And you did not try to reach out to me?"

She looked at him innocently, her mouth half-opened and eyes wide like a goose.

"Oh, but Richard… You were so drunk the last time, I thought…"

Embarrassed, the English lord waved it off, a nervous glance toward his companion. "Oh, I know, I know…" He said. "Interesting. Plausible, if you squint. I've always known women were such silly things, and their words meant nothing when their lives were threatened by something as obvious as the cut of a knife or… the burning of a house. You see, I would gladly like to believe you, sweet deceptive sultana, yet I fear to. And you see, I shall have my revenge, and now that I see you, and Rhett so weak in that farm of yours… I'm thinking you should be the perfect way for making him suffer before I shot a bullet between his eyes. Then we shall see if your love for me ran that deep as you claim."

She blinked. She had not thought about it. But indeed she had run eagerly to the lion's den.

He looked at her eagerly, trying to see the hurt and the suffering in her eyes like a ravenous bird of prey, and she did not let it show.

 _"You know my dear,_ " She suddenly remembered Rhett saying her one night, after a dizzying ball in New Orleans. _"some people tend to believe there are two kinds of persons in the world: the hunters and the preys, and that it can be seen at first glance. Yet, they tend to forget in their overmuch confidence that some are just playing the preys to attract the biggest prize. But surely, you know this, my pretty huntress?"_

Rhett… Rhett would certainly be angry with that idea that was growing in her. He might want to find her. Yet, he had the children with him. He couldn't just leave them. And he'd been trying to attract these men to her home… She had also the right to be angry. And most of all, she had the right to do something to prevent these men from destroying what was hers.

She needed to distract their attention. Do something.

No more would she be the helpless cause of people she cared about dying for her. Not if she could help it.

In a sharp moment of insight, she realized that losing Rhett's love forever and never seeing him again mattered less to her than the loss of his life. While the thought of the first hurt like a stinging fire, the second was her own death warrant, and she knew she would not be able to bear it. She'd be the shadow of herself, filled with the memory of a love that was greater than herself, only alive with the love of her children, if there was ever a possible way of seeing them again. She wanted to know he was safe and well, wanted their children to be safe and well, and if she had to endanger herself and lose her life for it, then she'd do it. And if losing his love meant he would not look for her and then continued living, then so be it.

She would write him a letter, telling him she did not love him. She would write a letter, in such a tone, he would think she was still that vain, selfish and cold woman with low morals that had hurt him so. More than that, she'd be the monster he'd be more than happy to be rid of.

It would hurt him, yes, but he would be safe, she thought.

It was with eyes twinkling determinately she faced him, joining her intertwined fingers on the table like a bulwark against that man.

"No. You don't want that."

"Richard…" The dark-haired man intervened, an amused smile on his face.

"No, Adrian… I want to hear it," Richard dismissed it, clearly intrigued by that quietness in the woman he held the whip over. Said Adrian rolled his eyes and left the room. "Then what is it that I want?"

She carefully chose her words, her eyes demurely down yet raising every so often to look at his expression.

"As you said, Rhett is… a wreck. How unsatisfactory the victory would be, without any fight, any _chase_ at all, a weak old man looking after children. I feel sorry for you."

His eyes twinkled in the darkness, and she knew she had caught his interest.

"Sorry for me?"

"Of course! You know I care about you. Loving you as I do, know you're a man of… appetites," She smiled lightly to make the dimples appear beneath the demure blush, her eyes fluttering, though with enough fixation that could suggest him that far from being repelled by it, she felt irresistibly attracted to it. "Oh, I wish it could be better than that, for your own pleasure. No, that's not good at all, for a man of talents like you, a hunter of the first class. And then, poor me," She pouted in a charming accusing way. "You think I've done you so terribly wrong, and you think I fooled you, making you believe I was dead after framing you… As if my mind could think of such thing, as if my heart would bear to! And yet it's not enough to hurt Rhett by using me. He already thinks I'm dead. And it wouldn't punish me."

He lifted his brow.

"Oh no?"

She lowered her gaze demurely and took a step forward, her hand going to her chest as if it hurt.

"It tears my heart that you would think I'm guilty of these terrible things you excuse me of. Of weakness, poor woman that I am, I admit it fully, yet duplicity! If you punishing me would make you believe me again, I'll be punished gladly. Don't you think if I still loved him I wouldn't have found a way for him to be with me?" She touched his hand delicately, fluttering her lashes like tiny butterfly wings. "No. I want him to hurt, just like you, so that'd be no punishment for me at all to see him suffer a little more. In fact, I want you to do it…"

He stared at her for a moment, then nodded

"Oh, I suppose you do, you surprising lady," He chuckled, putting a hand on hers. "And that silly Rhett, who told me you were known to be the most hard-hearted woman in all Georgia," And here, there was a regain of interest in his eyes and she almost laughed at it. "Though, if what you said is true… Here you talked to me about hunter and chase…"

She did not dare to raise her eyes, thinking it would reveal the triumphant gleam in there.

"Yes?"

"Do you know hunting to hounds?"

"I could learn to," She flirted with a naïve expression on her face, and his smile widened. Yet, her eyes glinted. She knew exactly what he meant, and this was exactly where she wanted him to be. "After all, I've always loved a good race. But then…" She pursed her lips, her brow furrowing in what seemed like a deep concern. "How could I bear being far away from you?"

This seemed to please him immensely. 

"Then so be it," He said. "I give you one day in advance. Try to escape me, pretty vixen. Show me you are worthy of me by providing me a good chase, and escaping my hounds. And when I'll catch you…"

She leaned in.

"When you catch me?"

His eyes glinted maliciously.

"I've heard you in the South had slaves a few years ago… Yes, you'll be my slave. And I'll take pleasure in seeing you on your knees, satisfying every desire I can have. And once it's done, I'll make sure Rhett sees it, and I'll have my revenge."

She refrained from shuddering at the idea. Yet, it seemed like the only way out of this room.

"Oh… I'm very much tempted to be easy to catch…"

He looked at her with superior masculinity, and she patted it to flatter it.

"Oh, but the chase wouldn't be that exciting, would it? It will be your punishment, that and being far away from me, as you claim you love me, and I can see your eyes tell me it."

Oh, the vain, foolish man! Strutting around like a peacock, thinking he had already won when he had just fallen into her trap!

It would bide her some time to think this through and get him far away from Tara, from Rhett and the children. She would find a way to get rid of this man.

Would she ever get back to the children, to Rhett? The thought was distressing, and she dismissed it, deciding it wasn't the most important matter at the moment. She wouldn't think about it now.

"A day in advance, then?"

Richard nodded, smiling.

"Beginning now."

Slowly, as if carelessly, she raised and winked at him.

"See you soon, my lord!" She said with an affected mirth.

And finally such discussion was over, and she had to think of the next steps. Oh, she had to contact Pansy somehow, if only to make sure to have means to communicate with the children. And Todd, that was waiting for her! Oh, where could she go? Which way was better? Oh, if only the gypsy group was still out there… Was it still there? She had to find out… Maybe…

Oh, why had she told Todd to say anything to Rhett? What if he tried to save her and was killed in the process?

She had to make sure that Patrick stayed near…

"Such a passionate declaration of love," She heard a whisper on her ear as she closed the door behind her. "I almost believed it."

Leaning on the other wall, Adrian was looking at her with bemused eyes.

Weary of her act, she glared at him, that dark stranger. She remembered when she was prospecting new clients, how important to know which attitude would pay off more, and now she was finding out that instinct could also be used in such a context.

He wouldn't fall for her charms as the other did.

"That was an interesting attempt," He continued. "Now, I understand what Rhett saw in you."

She narrowed her eyes on him.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, Hasn't Rhett talked about me?" He said, as if surprised. "That's a shame, for he taught me so many things. But I guess it's not something he wanted his young bride to know. Especially considering who my mother was."

She blinked her eyes, looking at him closely, then the light came to her brain. Now that she could see him better, she noticed that the way he was bearing himself was similar to Rhett, even with the attempt of a mustache that was much thicker than the original. It seemed like someone tried to imitate her husband, but without having the natural charisma and humor as the original. Where Richard had tried and failed to imitate her husband's manners, that man tried to imitate his appearance, and only succeeded in the mocking indifference in the eyes.

And there was also a familiarity in these blue eyes, for they were so alike those of…

Oh, could it be?

"The ward. You are him, right?"

His eyes twinkled in amusement.

"So, you've heard of me? Good. I'm not one to fight women and children. Not if I can ask somebody else to do it. Yet, as a sign of family amity and belated wedding gift, I'm willing to play the game as well."

She frowned.

"Why do I feel there's something more to it?"

"Because there is," A thick, wrathful light came to his eyes for a brief moment, and the amused smirk disappeared at the same time. "I must admit, I was amused by him at first. He's a twisted, foolish man, with means, fortunately. Yet, Richard played a trick that made me lost quite a bit. I have need of him still, but I wouldn't mind if somebody makes him look like a fool and gets rid of him before I have to, so why not? After all, your lovers aren't known to have quite a long life, Rhett being the exception."

She wanted to laugh, remembering with a silly thought that Rhett had talked of a boy, and she had imagined him as such! But there was also the matter that Rhett had always tended to think of most other men as boys, that he, a man of cunning and strength, could look down upon.

"So, I have your word?" She said with suspicion and incredulity. "Until I'm found by Richard, you won't do anything against Rhett, my folk and my home?"

He bowed with a jeering smile that made her painfully remember her husband.

"Though I wonder… won't that dear Rhett try to find you and ruin that little plan of yours?"

"He won't. He doesn't care."

"Oh, really?"

"Or if he ever did, he will not. I'll make sure of it."

He paused, observing her quietly. The determination in her eyes, not even wavering from the pain, the firm set jaws, the chin held high...

"Oh, so you love him that much?" He stared at her as if surprised, then shrugged. "Well, that's disappointing. Very well, You have my word as a gentleman."

"Gentlemen's words mean nothing," She quipped. "Know that if you do, I'll burn the plans and you'll have to dig all of the land to get what you want."

He took a step forward, while she took one backward, eyeing him warily.

"Oh, if they are with you, then I'm sure I can find a way to get them."

"They're not. Only I know where they are. Richard wants his chase. You want money. You need me, and alive."

Almost surprised, Adrian looked down at her, that little woman that seemed so airy-headed at first glance, yet that stood her ground with more gumption than expected for even a man. 

"You're either the most foolish woman on earth or the bravest," He commented, before laughing. Well, that would be interesting, he thought as he turned away, giving her a last wave of dismissal. "I guess you better hurry, then. The game has just begun."


	33. Chapter 33

The first morning, laying on the bed, Rhett stared at the cut braid of hair, black like the wings of a raven, shining like watered silk. He smelled the delicious flowery scent, the tender remains of the warmth her body – alive! So alive! – had left on the sheets. He stayed a little in it, his hand gripping the braid as if to retain the memories a little more. The comforting rays of the Georgian sun found their way in, lines of light in the darkness. 

With difficulty, he let go of the first old hints of anger and feelings of betrayal that came insidiously to his mind, that old voice, so like his father’s, that told him she had played him, and that he had shown her his vulnerable heart only for her to crush it. 

She’d come back. She always did. He knew she would, just as sure that he would always come back to her. She just needed time.

And anyway, she was in her territory and he was in her den. She knew every inch by heart, knew its people and ways. She couldn’t get lost in it. She always returned.

No doubt she was afraid of the way he would welcome her, just like he had been after that night in Atlanta. No doubt like a child she had run and run until her weary feet dragged her home, and she couldn’t find a way out of the situation. 

Now, he understood all the questions of the children, all their affirmations, that seemed so fantasist, so unbelievable. Oh, what a mess they had made of it all!

She loved him, oh, he had seen that. She couldn’t bear to see him with another. He had felt that pain, in her eyes. He had felt the doubt, the apprehension. And now again, she was afraid, certainly hiding again. Or maybe was she a little angry. After all, in his drunkenness, he did reveal to her Olsen was trying to burn the house, and that had certainly awakened quite a few memories. 

But certainly, what could she do about it? She would see he would handle it, and everything would be alright. She just needed to trust him, to lean on him.

And, well, there was also this pitiful little incident with that fast woman he had brought. Not his best move, he had to admit it. He had been desperate enough. Yet that ended soon enough and certainly, now she did not doubt it. No, the real problem had been with the house, he had felt it.

Certainly, she couldn’t be doubting his love, after all this time? 

He winced, remembering the words they had parted with back in Atlanta. Well, maybe so. A little. But after all, he did humiliate himself quite joyfully after, coming after her like a thirsty man in a desert. He remembered even calling her queen and then telling her he loved her. Certainly, this would appease her vanity… Wouldn’t it?

He winced again. Things had never been that simple with Scarlett. She could be so dense when it came to love and lust, so set in her ways! 

And then, he had to admit he had not made it easier. He felt the years of hiding keenly, a double-edged blade that now came back at him with the strength of a boomerang.

He would need to be gentle with her. Tender. He would show her there would be no repetition of the past, and that she could lean on him. He would always shelter her, protect her. 

Maybe he would tease her a little, and she would see how silly she had been to try to hide from him. But after. Oh, how he wanted to be to this _after_! He felt like a young man again, ready to board on new adventures. She was alive and she was adventure enough, and he couldn’t wait for her to come back.

He raised at the rooster’s song, sliding with a feline grace across the room to push the curtains further, allowing more of the sun to come on him. 

Today was going to be a good day. A good day after so many dark and grey, he decided. He would not overthink this. Overthinking had never helped him with Scarlett, for it made him imagine things that were not necessarily there. 

No. Today was a good day.

A calm before the storm, the insidious little caustic voice in his mind added. 

But he shrugged it off. Skepticism was not the way of happiness, he decided, and the hedonist in him wanted to enjoy the moment.

Oh, yes, she had played him a good trick. Yet, she was alive and so was he, and what seemed completely broken now laid in front of him as if nothing had ever touched it. As if it had only waited its moment to appear, at the right time, when he would be ready to take it. 

Oh, she had completely managed to drive him crazy, that was for sure. She had made him believe in ghosts and other fantasies. She had made him realize how life could be without her presence in the world, and he had taken it as a lesson. Never again. Oh no, never again.

But he was fine. She was fine. Everything was fine. 

Well, he doubted Scarlett was in the house now anyway. She had cut her hair, visibly to escape his embrace, not just to get down and take some breakfast. 

He needed to think, to go back from the beginning. But not _over_ think. Scarlett herself was not one to overthink, so why would he?

It felt like he had been running like a headless hen, running to something that did not exist. “You’re not looking at the right side”, the woman had said. How true it had been, how accurate. 

Which now brought him to his next reflection. Had she known of it? 

Most certainly yes. The woman had looked much too satisfied by her knowledge, and now he could see she had taunted him with it, and if he had seen the taunt, he had not recognized, as he would have in an ordinary day, the hint of something more to it. 

Was Mammy in it too? Of course, nothing could escape her eyes, and certainly not the presence of her lamb in the house she had lived for so many years. She had been loyal, loyal until the end. He could not deny her that. Yet it hadn’t served him much. 

Well, at least, if her last moments weren’t a dream, she had tried to make Scarlett see reason. She had taken his side, to an extent. 

What could Scarlett have done when she was out of his sight? Where could it lead her now?

He pondered the question, settling on her rocking chair. Ella’s cat climbed up his legs, meowing quite pitifully, its tiny claws scratching the linen of his trousers. Solene, she had called it. Like the heroine in Scarlett’s story. 

Something clicked, yet disappeared suddenly, leaving him very much frustrated with himself. He took the cat and petted it, the purrs of it calming a little his agitation.

How slow-minded could he be? A little sorrow and he was off of the game!

That would not do. That would not do at all.

Where could she have hidden herself? The former slave cabins? No. It must have been in the house. She was clean when she came to him, almost fresh like a morning rose. 

He wouldn’t put past her taking advantage of his blindness by ordering a bath in plain sight. The thought of her, naked among hot vapors smelling of rosewater and magnolia, her eyes gleaming at him…

The cat protested over the stop of his ministrations. He felt the tiny bite of its wrath before it escaped his grasp, its eyes glaring at him with the indignation of an offended divinity.

Rhett laughed, then sighed longingly. He had always been a fool for Scarlett. Not wanting to let her in, yet wanting to give her everything… Not wanting to be hurt, yet hurting her… All of this in a spiral that blurred the lines between love and hate, between hunter and prey. 

Love had been a chase, a constant fight for dominance, with him as a regular apparent victor. Yet not the true one, for it did not give him what he wanted.

Love had been a transaction, and he had lost more than he thought he would.

When had it begun? He asked himself. Who began it?

It did not matter. No, it did not. He shook his head. Where had he not looked?

The kitchen? No, too many people walked through it. Which also eliminated other options like the living and the sitting rooms.

Other chambers? Maybe. But knowing Scarlett, it wasn’t dramatic and secure enough, even if it corresponded at least a little to her straightforward nature.

His eyes widened.

The attic! He had never looked at it, and how stupid of him not to do so! 

Hurrying up the stairs, he cursed himself for not thinking of it until then, and even more when he found it, plain as daylight. Plain as a dustless corner in an attic, with covers and carefully packed provisions near it. 

He could have found her much earlier.

He should have raged but instead, he laughed, a burst of laughter like a madman’s, that tore him in half until he finally decided to sit back and let it end. 

He laid at her hide in the attic, and tried to imagine her, tucked between the sheets, her proud face twisting with impatience and irritation, not liking the idea of staying between these words when there was so much life outside, yet not daring to.

And with a book, besides! It must have been quite the merry hell for her to resign herself to the reading of it.

 _Jane Eyre_. He raised an eyebrow as he looked through it. Visibly, she had not liked it. Many torn pages laid on the floor, love passages from what he guessed, and he smiled with unconcealed delight, thinking he might have haunted her thoughts just like she had haunted his, to the point that even the hints of feelings and barely concealed sexuality sent her to such a destructive little frenzy. 

Oh, Scarlett, he thought fondly. What kind of fantasy had she thought of, this time? For a woman that used so few of her imagination and preferred the concrete over the intangible, when it came to her, it was surprisingly persistent. 

He laid a little more, feeling the lack of her keenly, but confident. She would come to him. After her little stunt on the other night, there was no doubt in him that she would.

The second day, worry coupled with frustration and he was short with everyone. Why wasn’t she there already? Had something happened on the way? Was she dying on the streets, caught by some unfortunate adventures she always seemed to attract? 

Was she ill? Was she eating well? She had seemed so thin, so pale under the moonlight… Were her dreams still plaguing her, without him to calm them down? Had it haunted her without him knowing, so much that she was still running when he so wanted her to stop? 

Oh, what a fool he was, to wait, to think she needed to come on her own, not to force her out of her hide. What if… What if…

With Big Sam, Andrew and Alphonse, he cast a wide net on the land, looking at each corner of it.

Yet, she was not to be found. Not even a footprint. She had disappeared, like a fairy in the night.

What was to be found though was some black liquid glinting in the sunlight, just near the former cabins of the slaves. Intrigued, Rhett sent a telegram and continued his search in town. 

Yet, still not a trace of his wife. 

It was at the end of the day that he realized what he had planned would happen didn’t, but he did not even lift an eyebrow. Maybe it would be for tomorrow. He still had time.

The third day came with news about that last question, and he realized it would come to nothing. Olsen was dead. Heart attack. Adrian would certainly be too wary now to act. 

And then there was this letter with _her_ handwriting. The envelope was torn apart eagerly. Yet as the words flowed, cold invaded him and the old voice came back. He did not let it show. He only gripped the paper and locked himself in his room.

For two days, no one dared to disturb him. They could hear his furious pacing, followed by a cry of rage and the shrill sound of glass breaking.

When he finally left the room the second day, he was smiling, a very chilling smile that did not reach his blazed eyes.

Prissy fainted at seeing the state of the room, and, once she recovered her spirit, swore with a sudden and surprising opposition that she would not be the one to clean it, and that if her employee continued so, then maybe it was better that she left with her children. 

Rhett paid no attention to it and as he checked his other letters, his devilish grin widened, a plan coming to him. A plan that would take his mind elsewhere than of irrelevant events and one woman that still managed to disappoint him to the point that he thought maybe it would have been better if she was truly dead. 

Few days after, a man, a very common man that almost looked like a Yankee, came to Tara, his glasses comically sliding down a nose that was not strong enough to keep them in place. The inhabitants of the house observed him with curiosity as Rhett welcomed him and offered him something to drink before locking themselves in Ellen O’Hara’s former office. Wade and Ella said nothing, the former urging his sister to go to her garden to look after her crops. 

Rhett and the strange man left the house one hour after, and Wade followed them quietly. Yet, his begrudgingly spying act was almost cut short when sneaked on him and asked him what it was all about. He hushed her, hiding behind a tree and tried to listen.

“So, Dimitri. Do you think there may be some petroleum in this land?”

Dimitri hesitated, crouching over the liquid. His finger slipped in it and he spread it on the tip of it, as if to appreciate its thickness.

“One can never be sure. Maybe there is. The only way to see is to dig it. Yet, from the signs there… I doubt there is actually much of it…”

Rhett wanted to laugh. 

Tara, like its mistress, had promised a lot, yet it had not quite to offer, it seemed. 

Or had it?

It did not matter. Money anyway wasn’t what he lacked. It never had been about it. 

“Do not say anything about it. Keep it to yourself,” He said quietly, dark eyes glimmering with a dangerous promise. “You understand?”

A hiccough answered it at first, a blink, then deep reflection numbed Dimitri’s face. Irritated, Rhett hit lightly the other’s nose with his palm. This man decidedly did not know how to hide his thoughts very well. 

“… yes.”

Black orbs glistened maliciously.

‘I’ll see that you understand. Now go. Your work here is done.”

He patted his shoulder a little, pressed then smirked. 

Certainly, in a few days, the word would be spread like a disease, he mused as Dimitri’s back was turned to him. 

He waited a few minutes, considering the grooves of the oak in front of him, following each line intertwining, disentangling, yet never completely apart. How old was that tree? He wondered, then sighed. Anyway. It was time to cut it. Among other things. 

“Wade. You can get out, now. Ella, you too, darling.”

Ella was the first, running to him. Her little hand slipped in his, chubby yet dwarfed by his own large one. 

“Why was he there, daddy?”

Looking at her with amused eyes, he crouched at her level.

“He was there to verify something, my sweet.”

She raised wide green eyes at him, her head cocking to her right side. 

“Oh, what for?”

He was about to invent some little story when Wade intervened, blind trust in his face that hurt more than his previous wariness had been. 

“That’s a thing for the grown-up, Ella. Come. We shouldn’t have been there.” 

A surprising boy, that Wade. Tough as nails when one of his loved ones was threatened, but so desperately trusting, even when some things could appear suspicious. 

The offers came barely one day after, and Rhett was almost surprised by it. 

Oh, so there were still people that wanted that house? Even after the uncertainty of such a bet?

It meant nothing. It was such a shallow, worthless thing… Just like the woman it represented. 

He sent a message back, naming the date and place. 

He washed his hands of Tara. It was just a wild little farm among others, promising a homey feeling, yet it did not provide it for the long term. 

On and on, he told himself that, and finally the day came and it was with a light step he arrived, almost grinning, at the meeting, blissfully aware that the other part thought he was a fool for selling so cheaply. So cheaply that he could see now the doubts were coming to them, as the deed was now presented to him.

Fools, it was them, for thinking they could get anything from it. No one would ever get anything from her.

Slatterys, they were called? Oh, he remembered them. Scarlett had talked over and over of them. She hated them. What for? Something about them being poor trash? The woman being the former overseer's widow?

Well, that was just the icing on the cake. 

Good for him. Good. It was only fair. He would take the children to another place.

She would have nowhere else to come back home. Nowhere else but…

Nowhere. 

He would protect the children no matter what. 

She could… go to hell if he cared. 

He looked at the paper, stayed still. The pen fell, then raised. A drop of ink tainted the paper. His heart stopped.

No, he couldn’t. 

Damn him, damn her, he couldn’t!

He tore it apart and turned away, ignoring the protests of each part. Ignoring the noise of the crowd on a market day, and its smells and attractions.

She had made it his home, theirs, and despite her treacherous little soul, he would not give it up. He would not. 

He’d take it as part of the debt she had with him, and she would pay the rest.

When she returned. If she returned…

She had to return. 

But maybe he was handling the problem by the wrong side. 

Maybe there was something he did not see…

At least, other than this big Scottish elephant in the streets that was following him since he came to town.

He turned left to an alley, then another until it was secure enough, and waited, preparing his gun. He raised it, a corner of his lips lifted. 

“Hello, Patrick.”

Patrick McConach froze, visibly surprised of having been discovered.

Not a light, this one. But certainly, it wasn’t what was asked of him. That big old giant, with his ginger beard, that mass of muscles in one block, all laid on two thick barrels of legs. 

Was he here to kill him? To threaten him?

Rhett was ready anyway. In fact, he awaited the challenge. 

“I’m not here to fight…” The Scot began, eyeing the gun with suspicion. 

“Oh, no? And what for?” Rhett lifted a black brow, almost amused. “And what if I want to?”

One step taken down. Another up. He was the one in power, and it rushed through his veins like a precious elixir. 

“I’ve promised Mrs. Butler…”

“To take care of the children, yes? I do remember you were hired for that once upon a time. Not now,” He sneered. 

“It’s not over,” Great, hairy hands were raised. “Mrs. Butler did ask me a few days ago…”

Rhett’s eyes narrowed, throwing daggers at the man.

What kind of devil did she think he was? He had always taken care of them, even when she didn’t!

Rhett maintained his grip on the gun, a click indicating only one step before shooting. 

“And… to watch over you as well…”

Rhett froze. Then a bland expression took over his face.

“Oh, really?” He purred. “That’s interesting. Do tell me more…”

No. If she cared, she would be there. If she cared, there wouldn’t be that letter hanged on the wall of her former room, proof that she was and stayed a treacherous and unworthy woman. If she cared, these words…

These words… 

He blinked. His eyes narrowed as he put the gun under the man’s throat. The ginger giant tried to take it back, but Rhett was swifter. It had been a long time since he had had to handle other men like that. But it was not one thing he had forgotten. He kicked his knees and pushed him down.

He was a bit disheveled, but at least it had been worth it. He felt as if finally his wasted energy was put to use, and it was exhilarating. 

“You… You will go with me,” He uttered, trying to groom that rebellious black strand that had fallen on his forehead.

“I do not like your tone, sir.”

“I do not like you at all,” Rhett retorted, barely concealing a peal of laughter. At least, that man had some gumption. “Yet, you might as well be useful. Do you know where she is?”

The red-haired giant looked at him with suspicion and unbearable pride. 

“I don’t work for you.”

“Oh, but I can buy you, can’t I?” He mused. “I have a sudden need for a gardener. See, there are too many weeds in my land…”

The Scot’s eyes narrowed at the visibly humiliating task, then gleamed suddenly.

“What’s your price?”

Rhett let out a sharp laugh and reached out for him. “Well, now I know we can talk.”

It was almost hand in hand they came back to Tara once the deal was done. Nothing but the deal, despite Rhett’s attempts to get more information. And maybe indeed he did not have it. Who knew?

Ella welcomed the giant joyfully, as if his appearance here was a belated birthday gift. Wade smiled and nodded, but mostly looked at his stepfather. He seemed to find in his expression something that relieved the tension in his shoulders, for then his gestures became more spontaneous. 

Prissy, intrigued, approached the scene, and Rhett had the surprise to see her almost blush. 

He shrugged and ordered a drink. Now that he was home, there was no ignoring it.

This was all nonsense. Why would Scarlett send one minion of hers to look after him? Why would she do that if she cared nothing for him? And then, why would she even think of it?

That’s when it clicked. He put back the glass violently and went back to the room, his body radiating in a furious frenzy as he took down the paper from the knife he had thrown on the wall.

She could have destroyed him so easily. She knew how he had blamed himself for her miscarriage, for their darling Bonnie’s death. 

She knew the words, knew his fears. And she had not used it. In fact, now that he thought of this…

These were not her words. These were his. The ones he had told her so many times, when he had been so determined to divert her attention from the signs of his love.

He sat down, read it again.

All of this time, he had been so confident that she was like him, that he knew everything about her. Yet with all this overconfidence, he had forgotten that as well she had learned to know him, know what would make him angry and ready to flee, and that being like him could include acting as he would have.

Because she had. In an almost symmetrical way, to remind him of the aftermath of _that_ night. 

She had thrown his own words back at him and forgot to add her own. It was all a masquerade, a mask he had given to her and that she had taken. But it never had been her true face. 

Yet, was it for the same purpose he had that day? Then why send a letter?

He read it some more, the words cutting much less now that he knew this. 

She never lied well, and in written words it seemed she did not too. Her clean, elegant calligraphy was messy and sloppy, turned downward when it had always been more upward. It almost cut through the paper in firm decisive cursives that proved she had her mind set and would not hear any opposing side.

She wanted him to think she did not love him. She wanted to feed his anger, so he would not try to find her. 

Yet why would she do that? In what kind of mess had she tangled herself?

Patrick would know something. But it was clear that he wouldn’t say.

Wade, he thought with anxiety. The boy certainly knew it. He always did, one way or another. Scarlett would not leave him or his sister without a word, he had learned it the hard way. 

How much time had he wasted?

Rushing down the stairs, he tried to maintain his calm. He did not need to frighten the boy just yet. He couldn’t risk losing him. Not now when the pieces were clicking, yet so many were still missing. 

A discussion was taking place with Patrick and stopped as soon as he arrived.

Eyes met in the living room in silent communication and the boy stared, before nodding, an understanding lightening his face. Ella smiled widely. Rhett looked at him as he raised and took today’s newspaper from the basket. 

Silently, Wade handed the paper to him. He sent him a pointed, insistent glance, before turning away.

Rhett stared at him, intrigued, then his gaze went down. Looked through the part about abortive methods and products against powerlessness, the deaths of pets and little domestic incidents. Widened at a word. A name, familiar. Then narrowed.

He sat down, numbed by the revelation.

Here, in plain sight… It was here! She was here!

His heart caught up in his throat as he read the words.

.

“ _… Solene was scared, but she knew she had to do this. With that terrible incident in her former kingdom when she had hit her head, she now knew everything she had forgotten, everything they had forgotten, Robert and her, and the children that were waiting for them. The children she had foolishly dismissed as others’, when they clearly expressed their wishes for her to return, for her and for Robert._

_She loved them, so much, and she would do anything to get them back._

_They had been so reckless, the both of them, stuck into old roles they did not dare to leave. They had lost their ways, lost themselves with the loss of one of their children. They had wanted to forget it all, and so they had, for a time. But now she needed to fight for him, fight for them. And hope she would be able to come back home. If she could. Gone was her quest for the missing half of her heart, for it had never been hers to find. She now knew who the true enemy was, and knew she had to find a way for him not to destroy what was hers. She had to distract him, make him stay away from what she held dear._

_Yet where to begin? The answer came to her as she thought of Mary, her guardian angel, that princess, too good for this world, who had guided her and that she had lost by her own foolishness. She needed to find that prince of hers, so he could join her and save her. Then, she would be free of old chains that she had dismissed for too long, but who now came nagging at her._

_Not to mention that princes were always so rambunctious (isn’t it, my sweet?), and chaos was exactly what Solene wanted to make.”_

.

 _Stories from Nowhere_ , the rubric was called. Anonymous, as expected. That part had been at first for those who wanted to claim it for whatever little petty revenge they wanted to get from someone. That dear Doctor Meade had once used it during his blockading years, after all, calling him a speculator. 

Which he was, actually. This had never been an insult for Rhett. And anyway, it had never been a part of the newspaper that had been useful for him anyway, and he had always skipped it.

But it seemed it had been taken now more than once by this. How long? How long??

And where did she find the money to get it? From his memory, this wasn’t a cheap thing to do.

He paused, frowned, then threw it on the couch. The other papers were looked through again and again, but all he could read was: “Rhett! Rhett! I’m here! I’m alive! Find me! I love you and I’m afraid! Find me!”

Damn, there was even the very beginning of it!

Thoughts raced through his mind, until suddenly a knock on the door broke the process of them.

Damn him for a fool! Who could it be?

Fuming as he took back the first paper and stuffed it in his jacket, he jumped and almost called for Prissy to go see who the intruder could be. Yet, the belligerent side of him also wanted to get him or her out of it more forcefully. 

And for once, the belligerent side of him won, and conveniently found himself in front of a hapless and hatless Todd Smith, who was looking at him with puppy eyes and irritating trembling chin…

How convenient… How very convenient…

“Scarlett is gone.”

Rhett blinked, the anger subsiding with the surprise. Swiftly, his gaze went to Patrick, who paled.

“What?”

“I’ve lost her.”

The anger returned tenfold, and he pulled the trembling man in, pushing him in the office and gesturing Patrick to follow them. 

He locked them all in the office, his body leaning on the door as he pondered his next move.

“What do you mean, you’ve lost her??”

“Your wife is an impetuous woman. I’ve tried to stop her, but she’s determinate,” Todd Smith pleaded, taking a step back. “Last time she talked to me, she said something about Richard Fenton and diverting his attention. She said she would meet me afterward, but she never came.”

Richard… Richard was here? How could…

Oh, yes. He had certainly used the same trick he himself had used that one time in London. And his way had crossed Scarlett once again…

That wasn’t good. He had a very bad feeling about it.

Richard was a fool. And maybe a little twisted, he had to concede that. He had seen his plays and dismissed it for old times’ sake. But most certainly, he was not a man to cross and to be played a fool, and Scarlett did play him…

“Damn you!” He snarled. “When was this?”

“… Five days ago.”

This made him rage even more. 

“And now you’re telling me? She could be anywhere! Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Did she try to stop you?”

“… No.”

“Then why?” He observed him with narrowing eyes. A corner of his mouth violently went down in a rictus. “Oh… I see. You wanted to find her for yourself. You wanted to prove to her that you could, and that you were the one who could protect her. Very heroic. Very… _knightly_ . Yet, you didn’t, and now you’re left with asking that one person you did not want to ask. Me. Her _husband_.”

Yet, the hapless man only shook his head, visibly not bearing the pressure, and certainly not the remembrance.

“She… She asked me to tell you if she did not reappear.”

Oh, she did? His heart shook. She asked for him and he hadn’t been there. And at this time, he had been waiting like a fool, when he could have tried to find her!

“Of course, she did,” He said. “And you let her down.”

And I did. By God, I did, Rhett thought behind a mask of cold cruelty.

Briskly, he examined him, towering over him to make him feel his strength. His voice was firm, emotionless. 

“Now, you are my man. You are, because you have no other choice. You will tell me everything you know, and if I find you have been leaving some things behind, I can assure you I’ll make sure you’ll never find any place to be safe.”

“And why would you care?” Todd tried, a last attempt at defense. “You do not love her, do y…”

“I want these plans she stole,” Rhett cut. Oh no, he wasn’t about to reveal his feelings to Todd. That young man was a fool, yet even a fool could unsettle it all with that kind of information. “Now, tell me.”

Todd stared at him, bewildered. “You do not deserve her.”

A nasty grin drew on Rhett’s lips as he considered it. Oh, he didn’t even know the half of it! “That’s not the point, is it? You ask me because you can’t find her. Because you’re not _competent_ enough to do it. As I see things, I am your only option. So _tell_ _me_.”

And he did. Though it seemed he hadn’t been the one at her side, guiding her. Wrong person to ask. Yet, Patrick had been so stubbornly silent to other things than money it had felt like talking to a wall on the way. It would take time to crack him, and time was not a thing he could afford to lose for so uncertain a result. 

A sufficient amount of money may do the trick. After all, weren’t Scots renown to be quite loyal to the one who paid them?

He eyed him. Maybe not. Yet, he had to try.

Quietly, he took a cigar from his vest, touching wistfully the golden case Scarlett had offered him during their first year of marriage. Clipping and lighting it, he took a puff of it and considered the situation. 

He did not know how Scarlett had managed it, but visibly she had instilled in that Scot a deep sense of devotion and loyalty. Perhaps even without actually quite knowing it. Scarlett was not one to completely reflect on how to manipulate people in the long term. Seducing, persuading, she could do, and very well. She had learned to use her charms from a young age, and had applied it like a skilled actress on a stage. 

Personally, he had always been more of a critic himself, thus why this act never quite took to him. Only one time, maybe, it had almost worked. Only one time…

Rhett looked once again at the newspaper, reading the words again and again until it meant nothing to him, only an addition of letters and signs.

He let out a short laugh and threw it on the table.

“The answer is here. It had always been here, before our eyes.”

And I did not see, he thought bitterly. But now, I do. I’ll find her. I have to. Soon, she’ll be safe in my arms, whether she wants it or not. 

The time to run was over. Couldn’t she see all the things he could accomplish for her? Couldn’t she see he could fight for her?

Todd blinked, looking at the paper with wide amazed eyes as he read it. 

“I always wondered what it was all about,” He mused. “Pansy had been so adamant about showing it, yet never told me what it was. She is really… extraordinary. It’s obviously a code. Yet what does it mean?”

“Pansy, uh?” Rhett answered, quiet anger at the praise this man was giving Scarlett. He was certainly not about to give other reasons for him to admire his _wife_. “Scarlett was never truly an imaginative one. What she tells, she usually does it according to things she lived. But she’s clever. That’s the trail she is leaving to those she cares enough to let them know.”

Most certainly Wade, who kept reading it. Wade who never doubted her, and always stayed true to her in his love, even despite his own apprehension. Yet, he could not bear to reveal it to that man, who he suspected had spent too many times with his wife. He felt satisfied though, remembering her wild abandonment to him, her attempts at hurtful words that even through the letter had not a tinge of sincerity in them.

No. She had not betrayed him. If so, she would not have reacted as she had done, and that man would not look at him like that. 

“And… what does it mean?”

His look was all too eager, and Rhett wanted to hit him for that. 

“That’s for me to guess, and for you to apply when I tell,” He quipped. He stared at the paper, the image so clear. His white animal teeth gleamed under on red insolent mouth. “Atlanta. That’s where she is. For now.”

Atlanta, yes. And she was certainly doing something that did not please him at all. 

She was about to set that poor unfortunate Wilkes free of his chains. 

Sighing with irritation, he turned towards Patrick and Todd and smirked.

“Gentlemen, I believe we have a vixen to chase. So let’s make a bet of it, shall we?” He drew a puff of his cigar, hot blood rushing through his veins. “To the one who’ll find her first and bring her to me, I’ll give one million dollars to lay off for the rest of his life. Starting now.”

That is if I’m not the one to find her first, he added in his mind. But it was always better to put more irons in the fire. From her story, Richard had visibly not found her yet. Yet for how long?


	34. Chapter 34

Georgia State Lunatic, Idiot and Epileptic Asylum. Milledgeville. 

It was a big three-store house with red brick, longer than it was large, with three high chimneys fuming deep dark smoke. Some trees surrounded it, yet they were like dead ashen corpses aiming for the sky. The leaves had left it, and people could be seen trying to gather them quietly, methodically, in a painfully automatic routine filled with silence and the quivering sound of the rakes on them.

Oh, how Scarlett had cursed when she learned Ashley had been transferred there! Couldn’t he have stayed in that little section in the hospital of Atlanta? 

Had Rhett been the one to urge it? She did not quite know, and she didn’t want to know. She supposed he had quite the reasons, yet it did not make her promise to Melly an easy thing to do. After a run, it came back to her as a chain she needed to get rid of before thinking to leave everything behind.

It was a surprise for her though to see that it was not quite the prison she had thought of. There was this doctor, Dr. Thomas A. Green, insisting that employees and patients eat together, live and talk together. He would talk of someone, a man named Pinel who broke chains, and Scarlett wondered idly where that man could come from, having a strength important enough to break steel. Chains, indeed, there were few in this asylum. Scarlett felt unhinged by it. She could not utterly understand it. There were too many patients in this building, too few physicians and nurses. Some did not seem quite ill though, and she wondered why they were here. Some were scary, screaming and kicking. Some stared at her in a way that made her shudder. Some seemed like children, little children with the body of men, rocking up and down, up and down, with a repetitive tune leaving their lips.

It felt all so bizarre and unreal to Scarlett, who had never been to such a place, who had seen of the sickness nothing but the concrete wounds of the flesh and some fits of melancholy. So bizarre and unreal that she felt quickly imprisoned and almost threw her apron on the second day. It had been so easy to enter, for they were clearly in need of employees. Certainly, it would not be harder to leave?

Oh, would they prevent her to leave?

Well, at least the good part of it was that no one seemed to seek her there, especially Richard who certainly knew nothing of that place and would not imagine her there. No one seemed to see her, to look askance at her for her shortened hair. Not even in the dormitory, though Scarlett, not used to such treatments, had troubles hide her discomfort.

Yet, it was a good hiding place as many, with food and bed provided. Not for a long stay, but it would do.

Now, almost one week was done. She never quite liked the work of a nurse during the war, and she did not like it more now. Yet, the gestures came back automatically, and at least, there were fewer wounds and gory. 

It was the third day she found Ashley’s room, yet she did not dare at first to enter. On the entrance, led by one of the nurses, young Beau Wilkes, beautiful, yet so alike his mother, had tried to visit his father. Yet, to no avail. Ashley would not open the door. Would say he was sick for each attempt. 

Yet Beau, like his mother, was not one to give up. He kept trying. And the more he tried, the more his aunt berated him, as she wanted to go back to Atlanta.

It was the fourth day, two hours after the usual visit, she found herself walking around, pausing at that door, not quite knowing what to do. Until finally, she was stopped by an old man with deep brown eyes, eyes that seemed to have seen a lot, and silver hair that ended in side whiskers. There were signs of unrest in the purple marks under these eyes, and the skin that was surprisingly smooth, as if pulled by each bone of the face. He’s not going to last long, Scarlett thought with a fright. A few more years and he would be gone. 

“You… You’re the new nurse, aren’t you?” He called to her. She froze as he looked at her over. Not a luscious glance, no, more as if he was trying to see if she would be capable for the work. “You seem practical enough. Good. Good. We’re in dire need of people like you.”

Her head bowed in acknowledgment, her hands gripping the rough fabric of the dress they had given her. 

“Thank ee sir. I try to do my best, sir.”

He nodded absent-mindedly, his eyes alert, as if waiting for something. There were noises downstairs, in the corridors, all around them yet he seemed to continue waiting.

“Of course, of course,” He finally said, and his hand held tight his pocket watch. “I should have welcomed you. It’s not every day there are new employees here.”

“That’s nice of you to think so, sir,” She continued her platitudes, before daring. “What is it with this one, sir? He never leaves his room.”

Something lit in his eyes. Interest. He touched the door lightly, as if considering.

“Oh. Ashley Wilkes. Lypemania,” Seeing the perplexity on Scarlett’s face, Dr. Green’s eyes became kinder. “This is the name of a disease, of a temperament. Men or women born with extreme sadness, and a deep fatigue for life. Sometimes, it does not show, especially with the ancestral quietness of the Southern way.”

“But… he fought the war!” Scarlett could not help but protest. “He was recognized! … so I’ve heard.”

“It’s not always a constant thing. You see girl,” The doctor continued wearily. “Especially with wars… War… It gives a purpose, and then when that purpose is gone, it all falls down. And all the miserable souls that were in it are left on the way,” He stared at her closely, his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to figure out something. “This one’s condition was particularly altered, and particularly, so I’ve heard, with the death of his wife. Some persons can grow mad with grief. When it’s not taken care of, and the patient is alone, it grows and grows, until the person cannot think clearly. For this one, it grew so much that he became convinced that the way to end his misery was to burn the house of one of his wife’s friends. Or, his lover, apparently. Hopefully, it seems it was momentaneous.”

Scarlett’s cheeks grew red and hot from the mortification. She bit her lip, trying to prevent her snap.

“So, this is how it happened…” She considered it slowly yet did not grasp every meaning of it. Only one thing seemed important. “Is there a way to cure it?”

“I doubt so. My own research tends to prove that there is not, and in this case… I’ve tried many things. But it seems this man had lost the will to live. I fear I will have to try more severe approaches.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened, but then the bells rang, and she was urged downstairs. 

When the night came, she reflected on the situation and prepared. 

She would get Ashley out of there. She had Melly’s promise to fulfill after all, and it would not do if that man lived the rest of his life beneath these walls, never seeing anyone but the doctor, refusing visits when they came. Barely opening his door to get his trays of food, yet never completely emptying them.

The following two days, she gathered the means to her plans, even paying for a horse, which took a great part of the money she had taken from her chest. One time, she thought she saw Aren, yet she had not the time to verify it.

And then came the seventh day, and there was no other way out. She had to see Ashley. And hope he did not become mad since the last time she saw him.

Which wasn’t saying much, for she remembered with quite a distaste their last encounter. 

She breathed in and opened the door, coming with the tray of the day. Quietly, she closed behind her and took a step forward.

Ashley was here, crouched in a corner. She took a sharp intake of breath. 

My, she thought, dismayed. He’s becoming a shadow, grey and sad, and so, so slim. He can’t stay here. For Melly’s memory, for the memory of the love I thought I had, he can’t stay here. 

He did not seem to see her at first. He was immobile, a statue sharpened on the edges by time and misery. 

“Good morning, Ashley.”

He froze, then raised sharply his eyes on her, taking her in. Finally, recognition seemed to come to him with a hint of fever, and he let out a laugh without mirth before falling back to his corner.

“Scarlett… Did you come to haunt the man who killed you?”

Feeling already depressed and irritated with what she was seeing, this felt too much for Scarlett, whose lower lip trembled before, in a fit of energy, as if she was trying to compensate for the lack of movement from Ashley, she threw him one of the loaves of bread that composed his meal.

“Killed me?” She scolded. “Well, you did. In a way. But you never were strong enough to do it right, dear Ashley. Eat, now. Eat, or I’ll be the one to kill you.”

‘Move!’ she wanted to scream. ‘Show me you’re alive, that I’m not doing this for nothing!’

At first, he looked at the loaf as if it was a foreign thing, yet she still looked at him, and berated him until he gave in. When he finished, he looked at her in wonder, before shrugging idly. Recognition had let place to realization, and then acceptation. It was all very linear, the way he was reacting. No shade in his talk, a deep laconic voice, as if he was about to fall asleep.

“So you’re alive… Oh, thank God. Well, at least, my soul is tainted with one less sin.”

“Your soul is still tainted with it. You did light up my house.”

His lips stretched in a small smile. “You still have no mercy to give, haven’t you?”

“My stock is very limited.”

“That’s fair,” He chuckled, yet it seemed emotionless. “I… don’t even remember exactly what happened, actually. One moment I was sad, and lost, wishing I was dead. Then I saw you… leaving that lord’s room. After that, it’s all a blur. A mixture of feelings, betrayal, sadness, and grief. The next thing I knew, I was in front of your house looking at explosives, the very same that I had used during the war, and there was this memory of the fires… Of the cries… I didn’t know if I was still there, if this was still a dream… All I knew was that there were these explosives, this match in my hand, and a loaded gun in my belt. All I knew was these words that kept ringing inside my head, that were not only mine, telling me you were a poison in men’s blood, and that it would be easier if you were gone. And then… I don’t know. I don’t remember. Oh, that sounds terrible, so terrible now. No doubt you hate me now.”

She looked away, uneasy. Crouching at his side, she patted his hand in an absent-minded way. No, she did not hate him. She pitied him, and somehow she found it was worse. She crossed her arms and watched through the tiny window, too tiny for anyone to jump from it. A tiny hint of blue sky, with the cries of birds, mostly crows, all around.

“It doesn’t matter now.”

Silence came between them, finally, and she did not know what to say. She was doubting it was right, what she was doing. Was she fighting for a lost cause? She couldn’t always drag him out of slumber…

Yet, she did promise Melly…

“I’ve loved you, you know.”

The words were said as a matter of fact, so easily. 

Her eyes came sharply to his face, the glare lightening dangerously her slanting green eyes.

“Ashley…”

Yet he continued.

“I’ve loved you, as a man loves life, desires it. Yet I never was a man ready for life. Life was action, adventures and blood, and what I wanted was… a sense of eternity. A break in time, quiet and frozen. A world without death, without evilness… A good world where I could just lay and rest…” He stopped as if suddenly remembering her. “You still have no idea, don’t you? What I’m saying means nothing to you?”

There, she could not help it. She rolled her eyes.

“I understand it. Yes, I think finally I can grasp some of it. Yet that doesn’t mean I accept it.”

“Fair enough. You’ve always been braver than me, overcoming difficulties with the strength of an amazon…”

Now, that was enough! She frowned and stamped her foot on the floor.

“Stop it with your claptrap. I’ve heard enough from you and Rhett, and I won’t bear it anymore. You both don’t actually want me to understand, or else you would never talk to me like that. You want me to pity you, and you won’t get it from me. You got enough pity, and I doubt Melly would like to see you here, and with your son alone with India.”

“She’ll have your husband to thank for that.”

There was a bitterness now in this voice, but it was better than nothing.

“My husband would never have done that if you hadn’t acted first.”

“Oh, it’s been on the way for too long. Did you know he tried to shoot me that day Frank and I went to Shantytown? I wasn’t sure that day, but when your daughter died, he told Melly…”

Scarlett blinked, her mind racing. When could he have said so? Where? Why? 

He had said many things to Melly, it seemed. Too many damn things, and not to her. Yet, at least one thing was obvious.

“Ashley… If he really had wanted to shoot you, he would have. If he didn’t, then… then that means he did not really want it.”

He was not one to leave things to fate when he was determined about something. He only did that when he was not sure. That, she was certain of.

“One man can fail,” There, he was coming back to life. Oh, it had to last, she thought. Else, what she had done would come to nothing. 

“Not Rhett. Not when it comes to shooting.”

“You have such a faith in him…”

“I do,” She pressed his hands with hers, her eyes almost pleading. “Oh, Ashley, you have to go.”

It seemed to come as a shock, for suddenly, Ashley froze and tried to escape his grip, a tortured expression on his face. For the first time, he raised and paced.

“No, Scarlett. I feel… almost at peace, there. People are… surprisingly soft with me. I’m not ill, nor violent enough to be given an ice bath. I like Doctor Green. He’s an interesting man. And I see people that I knew, people I thought were dead here. We can talk about what happened. And Doctor Green told me I could be of use. If I ever feel better. I don’t feel like I’m getting better though…”

He said so, but now he was becoming more agitated, conflicted. He’s waking up, Scarlett thought. Finally!

“It’s not your place, Ashley. You have a son. You can’t stay in a place where you will always remember what happened. You’ll just plunge deeper and deeper,” She said, hesitating before shooting a blow she knew would hurt. “Do you really want Beau to stay with India? You’ve… talked about faith. Melly had faith in you. Your world had failed you, but she never did. Are you going to fail her? Oh, for God’s sake, Ashley Wilkes, I am supposed to be the selfish one!”

He stopped, his shoulders falling. She crept up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

“Ashley… There’s a cemetery just beside the building. They are all without a name. Do you really want to live all your life there?” 

She insisted. “Do you really want to live there when there’s your boy that is waiting at the entrance? That’s the third day he tries to see you, you know.”

The shoulder tensed, the fist clenched. She was about to have him.

“There’s a horse in the backyard. Beau is certainly now in the entrance. Go. I’ll try to make a diversion.”

She did not really know if it would work, and what she could do, but she had to try. She was about to say more when suddenly the door opened. 

“Oh, there you are!” A voice followed, falsely cheerful. “You are needed downstairs!”

Jumping, both Ashley and Scarlett stared at the newcomer, before the last cursed. 

“Pansy?”

Said woman, in the visibly new dress of nurse, looked at her innocently. Her thick, curly hair was, like Scarlett’s, hidden behind a white cotton cap, yet some strands of it were so untamed it made spikes on the cloth.

“Me, ma’am? I’m a new nurse.”

“Stop playing around!”

There, the mask cracked. 

“Playing around?” Pansy scowled. “You are the one playing around! Do you know how difficult it was to find you?”

Irritated, Scarlett pursed her lips, her hands on her hips.

“And why did you do so? No one asked you.”

“Excuse me,” Ashley intervened, a concerned frown on his face, and a bit bewildered by the interaction that was taking place in his room after so many days of quietness. And also because suddenly he felt very much alone. “What exactly is happening here? Who are you?”

Both women looked at him, seemingly having forgotten him for a moment.

“She’s dead, you’re about to be, and I’m the one trying to clean the mess,” Pansy retorted. 

“Pansy!” Scarlett protested.

“What do you mean to do, disappearing like that? Do you realize you’ve left quite the mess behind you? Why, it seems you can’t help setting fires everywhere you go!”

Scarlett’s eyes widened, then narrowed in consideration. A fire… Yes, it could provoke quite a mess…

“Oh, I don’t like it,” Pansy commented, taking a step back as finally she looked at Scarlett’s face.

Yet, the idea was there and Scarlett grinned. 

“No time to explain. I need you to help me.”

“Oh, because now, you need me to help you?”

Scarlett’s grin widened.

…

It took a few minutes to persuade Pansy to follow the plan. Of course, a real fire had to be lit, and they managed to do one tiny, but that let out enough smoke to alert the other nurses and physicians, and the bells were ringing. 

And as anticipated, panic spread with chaos, and Ashley, Scarlett and Pansy managed to slip out in the crowd. They even managed to catch poor bewildered Beau Wilkes in the way of the entrance, under the very nose of India Wilkes who had not even the time to let go of her haughty and irritated expression. Beau however followed more eagerly when he realized who were his abductors.

And of course, when came the farewell, Ashley turned the horse a last time towards Scarlett. It was so predictable that she almost rolled her eyes.

“Come with me,” Ashley said suddenly.

“No, Ashley. Both of us know that it never could work,” She said, before remembering Beau behind. “There’s Beau behind you, there are enough adventurers on this horse.”

“I know. But… You’ve been such a pillar of strength in my life, Scarlett. You and Melly.”

“And Beau is Melly’s son. I expect he got her strength. Haven’t you, boy?”

“Yes, Ma’am!” Melly’s son replied, a cheeky glint in his eyes. 

“Yes… Yes, I believe you’re right… Beau…”

She shook her head, almost amused. The bells were still ringing, and there were still cries of confusion.

“Go make your way, Ashley. Go to Texas. To New-York. Anywhere. Keep the pony. I promised Melly Beau would have one. And I want some news in least in four years. There’s also this Tour I need to pay.”

He chuckled, almost in disbelief. “Never one for half measures, are you, Scarlett?”

“Why Ashley!” She teased. “Finally it seemed you know me!”

Feeling a sudden fit of euphoria, she slapped a little the horse’s behind, urging them to go, and hooted. 

Ashley’s white horse threw dust in the way, and she watched them leave the scene with a laugh. Until finally she crossed Pansy’s disapproving but amused eyes.

“What?” She shrugged. 

Pansy rolled her eyes. 

“You’re unbelievable.”

Pansy turned away and went back to the big house. 

The rest of the day, Scarlett participated in the calming of the residents who stayed, avoided investigation and Pansy, and counted with the others. She almost laughed when she saw Aren in the background, with the uniform of a nurse. 

Many residents were missing… Many that could maybe in some way hinder the way of others who would try to follow her… Good, that was the mess she wanted. 

Ashley had managed to escape. Good. Very good. Now, what was left to do?

She stayed with that question a long time, so much that when the night came, she decided to leave the dormitory, and climbed to the roof. 

Up there, it was easier to breathe. Up there, there was the sky, the moon and the stars above them.

Yet, she did not stay alone for a long time. Soon enough, she heard the sound of someone climbing towards her, and sitting by her side. She almost screamed at first, before realizing it was Pansy. Yet she stopped and waited.

It was that same woman who began the conversation, this time more quietly. The day had been long and wearisome for both of them now that the excitement had ended. 

“I thought you’d go to Atlanta. The others were waiting for a hint of you.”

Scarlett sighed.

“I did. For a time.”

Gathering information, mostly. And then there was that most embarrassing day when, trying to escape men that followed her a bit too closely, she entered Belle’s former sporting house.

This woman had been a shadow in her life, that she had tried to ignore so many times. It had been so easy to see her as bad when she was alive. But now that she wasn’t there to face her, Scarlett found in her some kind of pity. Belle Watling had been a mother, and a lover. She had loved Rhett deeply, had been his constant confidente. How painful it must have been, to hear the man you love talk of another! How excruciating the feeling that his thoughts were not on you, not totally… How she must have hated her, more than Scarlett had ever hated her. Belle had known everything. She was aware of her own feelings, aware of Rhett’s feelings. And Scarlett had been blind to it all.

And now, entering this house, she felt nothing. Nothing but the chaos in that place, the furniture that was pushed back, the cushion torn apart. 

“And what are you doing now?” Pansy finally asked.

Scarlett shrugged, feeling suddenly very tired.

“Running. Hiding.”

“You? Running and hiding? That’s surprising.”

“And what am I supposed to do?” Scarlett shrugged. “I’ve done my part. I’ve set Melly’s husband free, and arranged so that he can see Beau. I can’t do more than that.”

“You are Scarlet O’Hara Butler. Certainly, you can do more than that.”

“And what does it mean, exactly?”

Yes, what did it mean, to be Scarlett O’Hara? She had never taken time to think of it, it had always seemed an evidence. But now…

Oh, Rhett, she thought. What is left of me without you? 

He had been such a huge part of her life that she found herself doubting. He had been the problem and the solution, the hero and the villain, somewhere in between. Behind every one of her decisions, he had been there since that fateful day at the Bazaar. Tempting her, comforting her. He had been the brother and the lover, guiding her, teasing her, and now that he wasn’t by her side and she considered seriously never seeing him again, she was forced to reconsider her own sense of identity. 

Who could she have been without him? Charles Hamilton’s unfortunate widow, buried in black crepe, bitter and old before her age, patting herself on the back for such little daring as suggesting Melly and she replaced the Bonnells girls. Or perhaps would she have been different. She did not quite know. All she knew was that she had built her life around Rhett, turned around him, sometimes begrudgingly yet constantly, like a moth to a flame, and that now that he wasn’t to be the center of her universe anymore, she felt lost, her wings flitting haphazardly, her eyes and ears alert for any hint of him. It did not help that it had been her choice, quite the contrary. She had chosen it, believing, knowing it to be right. It just left a taste of tragedy, such a love forfeited, and the memories kept crawling to her mind like a person buried alive trying to find their way out. The more she tried to hit it, so that it returned to its grave, the more it fought and raised. 

She remembered the way his eyes followed her everywhere, twinkling like a promise. She remembered his mouth, sinfully red and sensual, at turns firm and unyielding, hot and passionate. She remembered the very precise way he organized everything, that she had once thought so irritating and now could not help but find endearing. The slow but firm gestures as he aligned the pens and rulers, as he pulled lightly her clothes so that it fell on her just the way he wanted it to. The way he would pinch her chin with his thumb and his index finger in a fond way…

She had been at turns child, pet and object during most of her marriage to Rhett, she realized it now. And when the child and pet ceased to amuse him, he had turned it into a decoration, gaudy and embarrassing, but that he did not dare to get rid of, for old time’s sake.

No. She was being unfair. The change did not happen like that. It was after the miscarriage. Yes, after it. His gaze had changed direction. His gestures had turned impersonal…

Now, it did not matter to think of such things. It would never happen anyway. Perhaps in a dream…

What mattered was now. Who was she now? Could she still be the strong, intelligent woman she had always believed herself to be? Where was she now, that impressive woman that never doubted anything and that just kept charging at each obstacle until it was overcome? Even for her beloved mills, he had been the beginning and the end. Could she still consider it a success of hers?

Oh, it would be all so better if she hated him! If she hated him, she wouldn’t care. For a moment, she tried to, yet to her irritation, even the most hateful thing about him became in her mind justified, and somehow beloved. Even knowing he had been and certainly still was able to dismiss her if he had the interests to do so, like he did with Bonnie, she still loved him with all her heart.

The truth was that she missed him too much to hate him, and even had she succeeded in it, she would have been upset to realize it gave much less weight to her sacrifice.

“What are you running from?” Pansy asked softly.

“These days,” she tried to jest. “Mostly lord Fenton and his little men. I thought I filled you in with that story.”

Pansy shook her head, and her eyes turned a bit pensive. 

“No, I mean… Before that. Why did you keep on running and running when you could have done otherwise? When you could have maybe asked your husband for protection? Don’t you… love him?”

“Love him?” Scarlett let out a humorless laugh. “There has never been a question of me not loving him.”

“Then why? I can never understand you, the both of you. Turning around each other like two cats in a yard. One never knew if you were about to fight or to… well do other things.” Pansy flustered a little, before sighing. “He’s a powerful man… despite or maybe thanks to his ways. So what’s keeping you? You could have stayed and asked for his help, like any lady would have done.”

“But I’ve never been a lady.”

“You’ve been a lady enough for me.”

Scarlett smiled, amused.

“That’s nice of you to say.”

“That’s not nice. All the ladies I’ve known and served were pains in the neck.”

A fit of giggle escaped her, spreading like a disease on that roof. It spread with the wind, whistling and soft this season. In the night, she thought, all seems the same. In the night, two girls could laugh together and forget what would be obvious to others in plain daylight. 

It stopped, and with that fall the sorrow came back like weeds in a garden.

“Perhaps I’m afraid,” Scarlett said, gripping the fabric of her dress, twisting it between her fingers. “Afraid of going through the same pattern, over and over again. What would happen if Rhett finds me and still wants me? A pattern of misunderstandings, petty acts of revenge and pride, of Rhett scheming on his own while I’m left behind, on a corner, as if I were a child people had to begrudgingly take care of, for fear she’d throw some tantrums. Afraid of staying in the same state over and over again, the same role, with the same people, the same place, and bear their pitiful stares on me. I want to live. I want to move. I want to love, and be loved…”

“But love isn’t love without respect,” Pansy said softly.

Scarlett blinked, almost surprised, then relaxed.

“… yes. Yes, I suppose so,” She sighed. “Once, Rhett told me the problem with me was that I had always got my way with people who respected me too much. But he’s wrong. It was not because they respected me. It was because they indulged me. Oh, what a silly darling, poor child! We have to be understanding with her. After all, her father is an Irish newcomer from County Meath, and her mother only married him to get away. Poor child…. I… always hated it. They talked and they talked, and Mother said nothing, did nothing, and the more they talked, the less I listened. There was never any solution for me in what they said. Never any solution where I could be myself, and not the good, ignorant little girl they wanted me to be. I was supposed to play the silly girl, then the silly spouse, an ornament for the husband. Not too foolish, but not too intelligent either. A credit to my husband, but never to me. If I did good and what I did was recognized as good, it was never thanks of me. But if I did wrong by them, or something wrong happened to me, then it had to be because of me. I had it coming, after all. Only with Rhett… I thought I could be different.”

“Is it not still the case?”

“Yes… No?” Her voice broke a little. “ I don’t know. I never really knew what Rhett expected of me. Once he told me he was proud to have a smart wife. He encouraged me to be insolent, to be mocking and crude. Oh, he criticized me, alright, yet… He gave me everything,” Everything but not what was the most important. “And then I was left out, all alone, in the dark… Oh, I know it’s my fault too. I’ve been selfish, forgetting tainting my reputation would also taint my children’s, hinder their chances in life. Yet… I wanted to have fun. To forget. I wanted to put all these years when I’ve been defiled, starved and angry behind me… Why is it that when it’s a man that does so, he’s easily forgiven because boys would be boys, but when it’s a woman, suddenly it’s shameful? Why is it that when a man embraces a woman, it’s the woman that is at fault? Why is it that sometimes it takes death for a woman to be recognized for the good she did? Fast, cruel and cold, they always called me, always, either behind my back or in front of me, as if I wasn’t able to hear. As if I wasn’t able to feel.”

She was about to continue, almost lost in these terrible, terrible thoughts that kept her crouching and crouching, so much she thought she would fall. 

“Oh, now, that’s enough!”

With that, she was pinched quite abruptly, the cruel deed making her cry in pain and astonishment.

Surprised, Scarlett turned to her right. She could not see a lot, yet it was unmistakable. She was being glared at. 

“You think you had been unjustly treated?” Pansy scowled. “My people had been treated at best like children by your people, at worst like piece of furniture. How many times people had talked about my incompetence, my uselessness, in front of me? So excuse me if I’m not in the mood to be complaisant about your situation. You had the choice. You’ve always had the choice. You could have fought for more rights. You didn’t. You didn’t because some of the rules of the game were good to you, but have you ever thought it could be wrong for others?”

Scarlett blinked. She felt as if someone had thrown her a bucket of icy water, and now she was gasping for air.

“No. I suppose I didn’t. I’ve never seen things like that. I’ve never thought about it… I’m sorry…”

Yet, it did not seem to be enough.

“Stop… stop feeling so sorry for yourself, Scarlett O’Hara. Stop saying you’re sorry when you don’t! It’s not even like you, and it makes me… it makes me…”

Pansy stopped, hiccoughed, leaning too much towards the left that Scarlett took her in her arms, patting her awkwardly on the back.

“We’ve been used, abused and… oh, I’m not even sure I’m the right one to talk about it, for I had it easy, so easy, compared to others…” There came sobs, yet the voice was still intelligible. “I feel so powerless. I thought I could make my voice heard, yet it doesn’t work. Little pamphlets I can do, but nothing more. Hell, your little story is even more read than mine, and I am the one who gave you the contact! And now, I don’t even have enough money to keep it!”

“I shouldn’t feel like you can understand me. I shouldn’t! You had never lived what my people lived, and yet… why do I sometimes feel like you can? I want to hate you, sometimes! But then, you said things like that, and I tell myself maybe… maybe you can understand… Not all of it, but at least some…”

She sniffed, then continued.

“Your father… he was different than the other gentlemen. Sometimes, I thought he understood us, really understood us. I don’t really think he understood really what slavery was. At least, not like the other gentlemen and ladies did. Once… I’ve heard him talked about Ireland. About the oppression of the Englishmen on the Irish, and the Famine…”

“I’ve heard it to,” Scarlett said quietly, finally. “Tell me about it. Tell me about my father.”

“He always tried to do the best for us. He reunited families and always made sure we were alright. In a way, I think he understood. Not everything, but some things. He understood what it was like to be looked down, to be oppressed. When I said Tara was different, I wasn’t lying… Tara was different. Yet…”

“It was still a plantation. The sign of the superiority of the white gentility,” Scarlett repeated words she had heard once, finally grasping some kind of meaning. “Did you ever meet uncle Peter? He was a darkie that worked at Miss Pittypat. I always thought… he was the one that led the house. He was the one to say what was right and what wasn’t in the house. I always thought he was a member of the family, and I said so when Yankees women stopped us and talked as if he wasn’t there. I thought I defended him. Yet now… I know it wasn’t enough. I should have done more. I shouldn’t have let them talk like that. He was right. I stated facts, but I did not defend him. Not like I would have defended members of my family.”

Pansy chuckled. 

“Some had it better than others. I wish I had known him. That Peter. He sounds like someone I would like.”

Scarlett smiled. “He would have berated you, saying you were insolent to me. Which you always were, by the way.”

“I retract what I say then. Maybe I wouldn’t have liked him that much.”

She chuckled, and Pansy continued, her eyes at a distance as if she was trying to grasp something, yet couldn’t quite completely.

“I remember once… Oh, I was so little, and so were you… You were climbing on a tree, and Esther had told me to watch over you because your sister had fallen into the river and needed comforting. And I cried for you to get down, but you wouldn’t. I’m not sure you even knew my name at the time. And then you screamed, jumped from the tree in such a way I thought you would break a leg. Yet, you ran and ran, and there, we saw you had noticed a black boy under one of the pines. Famished, almost dead,” She stopped, as if stuck in that memory. “Your father gave him shelter, covers and food. He listened to him, and offered him a place at Tara. But you were the one to lead that boy to him.”

“I did not remember it,” Scarlett said softly, before it clicked. “It was Aren. Wasn’t he?”

Pansy nodded. Her eyes flared suddenly, her body, limp before, becoming steel. 

“He left after two years. He promised me he’d come back to me, to take me away. He never did. He never should have promised me that if he did not intend to fulfill it. It’s a dangerous thing, to promise deliverance and freedom to someone who craves it.”

“Perhaps he did try. Perhaps it’s all a misunderstanding.”

“It’s not enough to try. I’ve waited for him, and he never came. If I hadn’t crossed his path because of your little follies, he would never have come to me.”

“Some men are foolish when it comes to love,” Scarlett said softly. “Some women too, unfortunately. But sometimes… Sometimes, you shouldn’t just focus on one wrong someone has done to you. Not if you care for them, and there’s a chance. ”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I said one, not too many,” She sighed. “Rhett is the love of my life. I’ve taken my time to realize it, but now it just seems obvious. Like… a well-oiled machine, one so essential that sometimes you tend to forget about it. You take it for granted. Yet when it’s gone… That’s when you see your life was based on it. You’re off-footed, and you try to regain your balance, but you’re never really sure you will find it again.”

“No man should be the basis of your life, no one in fact,” Pansy retorted spontaneously, before wincing, as if she was conscious these words would hurt Scarlett. “Sorry.”

“No,” Scarlett shook her head. “Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I make too much of it, and that’s why it hurt so much, why we tend to be at cross-purpose. We expect too much of it, and when it doesn’t provide, when it disappoints, we feel betrayed, hurt and everything goes awry. I love Rhett. I  _ need _ him. It’s almost physical, almost primitive, that need I have of him. Can I trust him for taking care of my heart? Can he trust me? Too many things happened, and I don’t know exactly the answer to these questions. But something… no, not something.  _ I _ want to believe. I want to believe I can be happy. I want to believe it’ll be alright. And I want to believe that one day he will be with me, and that for once we’ll be united in the end. I want to believe it will be enough, for me, for him. Because when I’m with him, I know I can be myself. And when I think of him, when I think of the children… I know I can be  _ better _ than myself. They make me want to try…”

Wade, so grown up for his age, mature yet still vulnerable. His deep sense of loyalty, his determination, and cunningness. His soft looks, that hid a quiet temper of steel. Wade who sent messages to the newspaper, demanding details on the story, on the destinations of the characters. He had understood, the darling boy, and he cared, so, so much.

Ella, sweet and cheerful, her little nails filled with dirt as she took care of the garden, and that charming smile and dimples when she was happy, which lit up her entire face, making it almost beautiful. Her face was like a window after the curtains had been drawn to let the sun enter when she did that. A clear, simple window, yet so pleasant and see-through! Every one of her emotions could be read on that face, no lie could be found. It was something deeply delightful to see, and Scarlett, who had learned from a young age to keep her face guarded and sweet, found a surprising relief in knowing there was a genuineness to it.

Yet… now that she was sure she wouldn’t return… She was beginning to reconsider her decision on continuing to post some updates to her story. What had seemed a deep reflection of caring seemed now an act of selfishness, a way of not being forgotten. What had seemed a way to give them hope and relief seemed a way to give herself these things. 

She contemplated it, but could not bear to. It felt like letting go of a rope that was preventing her to fall, and she feared the fall.

“But if it doesn’t happen… Oh, of course, it will not happen… Well, at least I want him and the children to be happy. With them… I found something to fight for, something more important than myself.”

She let out a deep sigh. No, she would not think of it now. It wasn’t even about her! It was about Pansy and that man that followed her like a shadow, waiting for a sign of forgiveness, a hope.

“What am I saying… I’ve forfeited it. There’s no way back…”

“Forfeiting doesn’t mean it can’t happen,” Pansy said softly. “The only thing that is truly definite is death.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened at the familiarity of the words, of that scene of a not so distant past, nagging her with a tone of absolute truth. Oh, now she had the answer to it. Yet, it did not make her happy. Instead, it came off quite bitter. “Then he’ll never forgive me.”

She let out a weary breath of air.

“But you… He’s waiting for you. I would say drooling for you.”

For a few minutes, no one said more. There was a chill in the air, and Scarlett shivered a little.

“That’s too serious and deep of a conversation. Especially for you. It seems almost out of character.”

“Name of God, have I strayed so?” Scarlett jumped lightly, as if outraged, before giggling. “I scarcely recognize myself, sometimes.” She paused, considering it. “You know, my story… is only read because it has no consequence. It is silly, can be read in a few minutes… Most people don’t like to think of bad things… Me first. I’ll think of it tomorrow, I’ll make it right later… But sometimes later never comes and I forget. I forget because it’s easier, and I feel if I think about it, I’m going to fall and fail, and nothing, no one will catch me…”

A hand caught hers, and she found herself squeezing back, in need of the comfort it procured.

“You are loved, Scarlett O’Hara. You have your children, wonderful children. You have a husband, that I am sure will still be there for the taking… a very peculiar husband, might I say. I can’t say I always like him,” Pansy smiled, while Scarlett shook her head, feeling as if what she had said had not be heard. No, she had no husband. Not anymore. “And… for what it costs, you have me.”

She froze. Then nodded.

“And you have me,” She replied sincerely. “And I’ll help you.”

Pansy looked at her in disbelief.

“A black woman, former slave, and an officially dead, repentant white woman? What a pair.”

“I’m not saying it would change the world. I’m saying… Oh, why fighting on our own when we can try to do it together? I won’t say I understand everything that you say. I won’t say I agree with everything. I’ve been… taught so differently that everything clicks and clashes in my head, and I don’t even know if my help could be truly of use to you…”

“What a mess.”

Scarlett cracked a smile.

“It is. But I want to try. Would you let me fight alongside you, Pansy?” Surprisingly, she felt some fervent expectation at this, that she tried to hide behind a mocking expression. “After all, every great cause needs money, and if there is something that I’ve learned, it’s how to get some. Care to shake some walls with me?”

“Beware, one might say you’re a niggar-lover,” They stared at each other, then laughed. Now it seemed all so ridiculous, this term that was supposed to be insulting, and that now seemed to mean nothing but some piece of dust that did nothing to taint their relationship. “Why not? It seems I have nothing better to do anyway.”

“And me? Except making sure an English lord does not get too close to my husband, my children, and my home, my schedule is quite empty these days,” Scarlett jested. “So… friends?”

“Yes.  _ Unlikely _ friends. I’m still thinking you’re pretty much spoiled and frivolous.” 

“And by God, you are the most disagreeable girl I’ve ever known!” She scowled, yet it did not last as she turned to the woman beside her. “Partners in crime?”

“Most likely,” Pansy chuckled. 

Scarlett grinned. “Then let’s raise some hell.”


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and thank you for your constant support!
> 
> By the way, Thomas A. Green is (for those who don't already know), a real person, who really tried to improve the life of the residents of the Asylum of Milledgeville. I hope I managed to do him justice at least a bit for the short time he was introduced.
> 
> I hope you will like this chapter!

Morality had never been a priority for Rhett Butler. If it prevented him to get what he wanted, he tended to try to work his way around it. Morality, he had learned, could be quite the fickle fellow, changing according to circumstances and society, and if he knew the rules by heart, that did not mean he had to abide by them if he had much to lose in the process. He was no man to fear consequences, nor to truly believe in any almighty entity people said he should be afraid of. He had seen too much for that, a nicety of his own father who dearly loved playing it in his own family.

The war hadn’t quite changed that. He had long been his own man then, and he knew survival could depend on a few seconds, not leaving much time to reflect on whether it was good or not. In fact, he liked to play with the limits of it, and see the other gentlemen unable to do anything about it.

Bonnie’s arrival though changed his priorities, and morality was then a code he had at least to appear to be the model of. Yet, it had stuck him into a very uncomfortable routine, measuring every gesture, every word he would make, a fight against himself at each moment that he had to do alone, and he resented that. He resented Scarlett for not fighting with him, for not having so much compassion over the situation, for not loving him as he longed her to do, so much that he forgot for a time he had been the one to urge her to let go of all of it. It was like an ill-fitted costume that he had to endure, a flattering one certainly, one that was easier to wear when he was confronted with people like Melanie Wilkes who flattered and encouraged him in that direction. There was certainly something very soothing in knowing that someone did not judge you for your wrongs and amplified your goods. 

Yet, mostly, he considered it like a restraint, a leash that strangled him, and he broke free once, that day when jealousy got the better of him, and he couldn’t bear to let Scarlett passing him by anymore.

He had thought the days of adventure were over him. It seemed they weren’t. Yet it wasn’t as freeing as he thought he would be, though it gave its rushes of excitement. 

There wasn’t Scarlett to share it with, and as much as he loved the children, this was no place for them. 

She certainly led them into a merry chase, making the game linger more than he ever thought she could. Yet now it was enough. He wanted to see her. He wanted to hold her, and it killed him to think that she could be found first by someone else. Yet, she kept escaping. 

It was already quite nagging she had actually managed to set Ashley free and organize the abduction of Beau Wilkes. Missing her by one day in Milledgeville was the last straw, especially when words came of a nurse accompanying the fugitives. A dead-end, it seemed, and he did not doubt she was the one to have created it. Yet it made him waste precious time and he was in no mood to appreciate the effort.

He couldn’t quite count on Todd and Patrick, it seemed. They were too slow for him, and their reports not as detailed as he would have liked. 

He had thought of the places she could go to. Thought of the directions that needed to be explored. Patrick went to Savannah, where members of her distant family, whether on her mother’s side or her father’s, still lived, and Todd to Macon, to look for eventual relatives of the Hamilton (a dead-end Rhett himself planned, for he did not really want him in the way).

Yet they would be fools if they thought it would be enough, and Rhett wouldn’t enter himself into the race. He had planned it since the beginning. He was not one to wait and see.

So, he had to make quite the drastic decisions. And maybe he had been quite over-the-top with it.

He knew Scarlett would be too wary to fall for his ploys. She knew him too much for that. Also, she was certainly in constant movement, and there was also a risk of her not noticing the obvious. Knowing this, he adapted his plans by attracting an easier target. That little servant of hers, that seemingly had more influence than he had thought at first. 

The idea was to trap her first, then encourage her to reveal the location of his wife. 

Yet, instead, the bait he used did not attract the one he was looking for. It attracted the very man he had tried to find after the fire, but who until then had slipped through his fingers like sand. 

To his surprise, the boy was reasonable enough, though his attempts to escape forced Rhett to tie him to his chair for the day. He did not have the information Rhett needed, yet he was ready to try and get it, when the moment would arise. 

Yet, Rhett had another idea in mind, an idea that needed this man to stay a prisoner a moment longer, and it proved to be a good one when it came much swifter than he thought it would be.

It was Andrew that informed him of the intrusion, the new person who had slipped into the staff of the hotel he lodged in. So, he waited and stayed close, a seemingly sleeping snake, until finally actions were taken, and he just had to eavesdrop on another seemingly touching scene from that drama he lived on.

“… I tried to protect you,” came the distressed voice of the man he had caught.

“And that’s quite the good job you did of it!” The dark-skinned woman that was trying to work on his ropes scowled. “Getting caught like that! I don’t need your protection, Aren. I’ve been living on my own too long without you interfering.”

“Pansy… Hear me out, there’s something…”

“Shut up and actually try to be useful. It’s not easy to cut it when you keep wriggling!”

Rhett was tempted to laugh for a moment, yet he figured it was better to enter the show himself. 

“Well, well, well…” He came in, amused, before leaning on the threshold of the room, his feet crossing. “I thought I’d caught a mouse, it didn’t come to my mind there would be two.”

The woman jumped, and the knife she had in hand fell on the floor. Her eyes looked around, alert.

“Go on,” Rhett continued. “Deliver your friend. I need to talk to you.”

After a moment of hesitation when she looked at him with narrowed eyes, she did, and it allowed then for a much more agreeable conversation. 

Well, he let said-Aren do most of the talking, noticing his former servant was very much piqued at having been lured in like that. 

“Pansy, that’s a lot of money at stake,” Aren urged finally. “Why hesitate? You don’t owe her any loyalty. You just have to say where she is.”

Pansy’s expression had softened under his gaze, yet her eyes were conflicted, her lips set in a thin line.

“Aren…”

“We could build a life from scratch with it, a life of our own just like I’ve promised you,” He insisted. “You’ve been sold as well as me by their people. Don’t you think it’s a fair payback?”

“Here’s a reasonable boy,” Rhett thought with a smirk.

“And what is to become of her, if I do so?" She turned suddenly toward Rhett. "Are you going to treat her right?”

“That is not of your concerns.” He felt offended by that. He had always made sure Scarlett had everything necessary, and now he was questioned by a former servant of hers? The audacity of being questioned by a wench!

“That is entirely of my concerns," She quipped. "I am the one with the information.”

“Are you?” He mused. “How do I know you have it? And anyway, I won’t let you go without it.”

Oh, he certainly knew she had it. Yet, bluffing might get something of her, after all.

She scowled, then paused, thinking, and Rhett wanted to shake the information out of her, counting the minutes that were lost in talking so.

“Give me one day, and I’ll tell you,” She said suddenly. “She won’t move now. Not without me appearing.”

Rhett frowned, his arms crossing.

“She’s up to something. What is it?”

Pansy’s eyes were defiant when they met his.

“How much am I paid to say it? From what I've gathered, I should already be a millionaire by now.”

He smirked.

“Don’t tempt your luck, you did not enter the gamble. And anyway, you did not lead her to me,” He said. “You have your day. Take advantage of it."

He added, smirking deviously at them before leaving the scene, locking the door behind them: “After all, I have no use for this room for now.”

And indeed, he did not. He did not sleep much these days, could not. 

And anyway, he had some visits to do first.

…

He came back frustrated and weary, the matters not advancing the way he wanted to. Yet, at least, he had managed to get the newspaper before it was released.

He ordered a coffee and settled in the chair of the parlor.

Scarlett had been an irregular correspondent, and sometimes the column was taken by something else, with the apologies of the working team, for it had somehow become quite popular, with people sending letters to know of the anonymous author. It had intrigued them, especially when it seemed so harmless, with a hint of nostalgia for the old World and its rules that lured them in. 

Some of them were Wade’s, though the boy preferred to keep it private. Rhett respected it, knowing Scarlett would not just indicate to him her exact whereabouts. Yet, he suggested to him some questions, hoping she would slip something. 

Today, there was the continuation of her story, and he read it with expectations.

.

_… She had found back the friend she thought she had lost, and with her, she felt stronger. It felt like a relief, to share battles with someone with more convictions than her, someone that was believing a grand cause._

_People needed to awaken, Viola said. Stories had to be told, long time stories of abuse and violence, of people oppressing people and using them. People needed to raise and see things as they were and fight for their rights, so that it would not happen again. The truth needed to be said loud and clear, and people couldn’t keep putting a veil on it. But for that, it was, there were some persons that had to be urged to tell the stories, to write it in ink, to carve it on stones, for the greater good._

_Well, Solene did not understand it completely. However, it was good to know she could be of use. And anyway, it brought some adventure to her otherwise uneventful race, and she wasn’t about to say no to this._

_She thought of her children. She wanted them to know she loved them, that she was safe, and she would come back to them. Yet, not now. The enemy was near, and she was needed elsewhere._

_They would have to wait and be brave and gentle to the ones that loved them. Yet she knew they already were. She sent them a million of kisses, hoping they would reach them safe and sound and nice._

_Here she was, in a kingdom that had waited for battles that never came, and she was determined to get some money out of its unused powders. She would take advantage of its gardens to create a pretty crown for her darling little girl and of its libraries so that her boy be given the best books available for his studies. For, after all, they deserved the best._

.

Rhett smiled, his mind connecting the dots, though fearing others might do the same. He needed to act quickly. 

A telegram came, and he hesitated, the thrill of opportunity rushing through his veins. 

Yet, it would have to wait. He had to get Scarlett back first. 

He was about to write back when suddenly the door was opened with a bang. 

“Sir, they're gone!” Alphonse said, rushing to his side with a face flustered with apprehension. “They used the window!”

Rhett sighed, closing the newspaper.

He was surrounded by incompetents.

“Anything they left?” He said quietly, taking a sip of his coffee. 

Alphonse, surprised by the lack of outburst, nodded shyly, before handing him a piece of paper, with a rushed and rough handwriting.

.

_There’s a little thing, fragile yet precious, that can’t be paid, and you won’t get her back if you don’t understand it._

_Think again._

.

He stared, cursed, and crumpled the note, before throwing it away. A frown came to his face and he refrained a groan of frustration as he leaned back on his chair.

“What are we doing now, sir?” Alphonse asked, a little bit on edge. “Do you want to get them back?”

Rhett snorted. What was the need now?

“No need,” He said. “I have the information I wanted.”

…

Augusta, city of gardens. The city that had waited for the General who never came. Now it seemed once again to be waiting for something exciting to happen. Something to make people forget the losses, the crushed hopes and pride, wake them up from their lethargy. Oh, they prospered, very much so, becoming the most important cotton markets in the world (or so they liked to think). Yet, there was no thrill to that, and the superior class had to make do with the amusements in hand.

In this context a woman came with a fantastical bang, one in a group of seemingly members of the traveling community, a people with a constant presence and continuity of life that seemed unaware of the previous war. 

What a curious little gypsy she was, people thought. Curious and so very fascinating. She flirted her way around, pale green eyes dancing, soft-spoken with the women, with an almost honeyed tone, and bold with the men who came around her. She flattered them by her feminine ignorance, so much that very few noticed the way her sentences were turned, hinting for more than an empty head. She said very serious, sometimes very controversial statements one time, then silly remarks the other. She teased and soothed, piqued and charmed.

Yes, she was a curiosity, and the intelligentsia was very much in need of such a novelty. Nobody knew who had remarked her first, who had invited her first, and where she really came from, but now it seemed she was invited everywhere. Yet, it seemed she was quite selective with her acceptances, for she rarely appeared, and when she was, no one could say precisely when she would be coming.

It was one of these parties, and she arrived quite on time, which flattered the host immensely. At one of these parties Rhett had managed to sneak in. It was the fourth one in a week for him, actually, and now it paid off.

His gaze followed her every move as she talked, as she danced and played. Her losses, though little, were loud and distressful, so much that it eclipsed her victories. She did not seem to notice him, and he stayed silently apart, a polite guest that made his way discreetly but was nonetheless remarked.

And then came a time when it seemed she remembered she was supposed to be a gypsy, and a moment was dedicated to fortune-telling. The ladies around, and a few gentlemen, although they claimed not to believe in such things, came in turns in the office they had reserved for her. Few left unhappy about the results, which were shared in soft whispers, except perhaps some of the gentlemen who seemed mostly discomfited, to Rhett's satisfaction.

At the end of the night, he finally slipped into the room. The thick, royal blue curtains had been drawn and a big fire burned bright in the fireplace, almost the only light in it with the few oil lamps. It was a mysterious atmosphere that had been created in what definitely was by daytime a very clear room, the shadows of the furniture giving an ominous but thrilling touch to the mix. 

His eyes caught her from the first moment.

A thin dark blue veil wrapped her head and most of her face, making the outsider focus on her glinting, dangerous eyes. When it wasn’t attracted by her cleavage, negligently low as if she just went out of bed. Of her breasts, he could guess the tender shape through the white shift, and it made his throat go dry.

She looked enticing, like a mystery to unveil. Even if it seemed quite outdated. It did the trick though.

One thing that disturbed him though was that it did not look like she was wearing any stay. All he could see was that dark waistcoat closed by golden buttons, and as his eyes went down there was only a loosely tied belt and a long burgundy skirt.

He locked the door behind him and kept the key in his pocket.

She froze when she saw him. He saw clearly the mechanisms of her sharp mind working until finally, she composed herself.

“Ye ast for a readin’, suh?”

“A reading? Yes, why the hell not,” He said, walking forward and lounged almost lazily on the chair near the chess set table, his fingers grazing a moment the olive wood. “Yes, that’s why I ask you here, after all. I suppose your price is very expansive.”

Her eyes glinted as she settled on the chair opposite him, and he wished he could see more than the hint of her lips stretching in a tantalizing smile.

“Good readin’ always is, suh. If ye’re truly ready for it.”

“I’ll see what you’re offering first. I’m not one to pay the goods before seeing it.”

“Oh, really?”

His mouth went down in an amused rictus as he gestured her to continue. When she put her tiny fingers on his hand, after much negotiation when she tried to empty his purse, certainly for her own amusement, he felt a shiver of anticipation, a warmth almost surprising for such cold little hands. There were vibrant sparks in that green, in that light touch exploring each inch of his palm.

“There, there, I see… What a flat, hard mount of Venus ye have. Dat’s a stone-cold heart, ye can have, I b’lieve. And tis a long, long life line ye have here, suh. And a strong line of Apollo. And there, the heart-line… You had a wife, hadn’t you?” The eyes went up, scrutinizing for a moment. “Thinking of getting another, maybe?”

“I’m beginning to think of it,” He said quietly, trying to refrain the smirk from his face as he saw the purse of her lips. “That’s the head-line, darling.”

She froze. Yet, she said nothing, did not even look at him. She couldn’t. Not now. She did not want to argue with him. Not now. And yet, she knew they had to. She knew she had to go.

“You’ve played me for a fool, Scarlett. But now it’s over. Drop the act.”

Her eyes glared at him, piercing and fierce. Her hands left his abruptly, and he felt their missing accurately, like a cold gush of air rushing through a window that had just been opened. With a huff, she took off her veil and threw it aside.

“Fiddle-dee-dee, you’ve played me for a fool many a time.”

“Must it be always a fight with you?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” She leaned back on the chair, crossing her arms and pouting. “How did you find me?”

“You always wanted to be the center of attention, my dear. I knew that you’d slip sooner or later.”

“Great balls of fire, I hate you so damn much!” And with her anger, it rang true in part, and she could almost believe it. “What possessed you to play this trick? You've put your life on the line, and that of the children, my children!”

“What possessed _you_ to play this trick?” He stood up abruptly, his shadow covering her, a dark and fearsome expression on his face. “ _Our_ children are alright, thank you for _caring,_ darling, but not thanks to you.”

“Oh, because that’s thanks to you? Don’t you realize…”

“What don’t I realize?”

She realized she had fallen into his trap, and she was about to tell him everything when she had told herself she’d be cold, mean, superficial, and wrathful. She squared her shoulders, held her head high, and faced him with a scowl.

“To everyone, I am dead,” She stated coldly, composing her face so he wouldn’t see the plead underneath. “I can go wherever I want. I can do whatever I want. I am untouchable.”

Swiftly, he took her hand in his, black orbs maddeningly intense. She struggled slightly when he put his knife out of his pocket. She bit her lip, but then her eyes met his and she stood, hypnotized, a little bit of fear mixing with a surprising desire gripping her guts. She barely felt the tingle of pain as he pressed the point on the tender part of her palm. 

“You can bleed.”

He froze as he saw the drop of blood tainting the blade, and let go of her hand swiftly, putting the knife aside.

His skin was paler, but she did not see. It felt like she had been washed over with icy water, the drops running down her body, down her hair with the shame and apprehension of having her emotions been played once again by the man before her. 

“No…” He whispered with pain in his eyes and his voice breaking. “Forgive me, my darling, I shouldn’t have… forgive…”

Before she could ever escape, he pressed her tightly into his arms, her head at the level of his heart, that she could feel beating swiftly like a drum. She thought the imprints of his hands would stay on her body, and she didn’t mind it if she could just stay here, in his warmth. She could feel the buttons of his shirt against her chest, throat, and cheek. He was trembling against her, and for a moment she wondered why. When his crossed arms left her shoulders, another instinct took her, to flee before he would force her to face him. 

Yet, there was no escaping Rhett Butler as his hands lay firmly on each side of her face, and he urged her to look at him. 

He was crying, she realized with a shock, like a pang to her heart. She faltered, looking at these bright, pained eyes, and felt the tears coming to her as well. She hiccoughed with the emotion of it, but he stayed still, his thumb drawing soothing lines on her cheekbone. Her lids fluttered under his touch. She felt like she might faint, her heart like a ticking bomb in her chest. She stared at his lips as they opened, letting out a ragged breath, and she whimpered. This sound seemed to wake him, and he kissed her. Ferociously, fervently, as if once he began, there was no way for him to stop it. And she did not want him to stop it. Did not bear to think of what could happen, if they were apart. She gripped the front of his shirt with desperate energy. She opened herself to him, and he took and took. And she took and took. She barely realized she was standing on the top of her toes until he finally put his forehead on hers, eyes closed, and she felt herself wavering from a lack of balance. His arms, which had lowered during the kiss, tightened around her body. She looked at him anxiously, hanging on every movement. The air was in and out of his mouth with a hard whistle, and she refrained from moaning. 

His voice was uneven, choking with emotion as he finally opened his eyes and said:

“Let me be clear to you once and for all, you damn woman. No mockery, no hiding behind words I know you won’t understand. You are the love of my life and there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go out of my sight.”

She hiccoughed with the feeling of her heart moving up to her throat, choking her. No, no, why now? She couldn’t… He couldn’t… Oh, why couldn’t he understand? Why was he making it harder for her? Why was he so… marvelous, so damn lovable, and desirable when she would have preferred him to be cold, hard, and cruel? It would have been so much easier to face that Rhett, for she knew nothing would touch him! 

“I… I…” She shook her head, looking at the golden buttons of his waistcoat. “I don’t love you anymore.”

He pinched her chin between thumb and index, lifting it to make her meet his eyes. Yet she kept it low, her thick black lashes hiding the green truth underneath. She did not move, even when she felt his forehead on hers, burning like his gaze. 

“Liar.”

“It’s true!" She said urgently. "I’ve said so, I’ve written it!”

She pushed him away, trying to aim for the door, but he was faster. 

“Oh, I’d wring your neck!” He retorted with a thick voice. “Must you be always that stubborn? Scarlett, be honest for once in your life. Had you not loved me, you would never have presented yourself like that and asked me not to think about you again. Your vanity would have preferred me pining after you like a dog.”

“I could. Because I know you would be infuriated enough not to do what I tell you!”

He stared at her, disbelieving.

“Well thought, but I know you. You just thought about that one. But continue, I’d like to see how long you can last this masquerade.”

Her mask tore up. She lunged at him, drumming his chest with her fists until he caught it and blocked it. 

“You’ve told me you’d leave me the day I would make a moral decision instead of a practical one that would bring me more comfort!" He was tempted to laugh bitterly at the confusion in her morals. "Can’t you see it’s the right thing to you I’m trying to do? I’m setting you free, you damn rascal! Why, why aren’t you giving me up, why…”

“Because I can’t!” He snarled, the pain of his passion released in his voice. “I’ve… tried many times. But it’s not to be. Because every time I think of home, I think of you. You are my home, Scarlett, and if I don’t have you and the children, then nothing else matters, you hear me? Nothing else matters.”

Scarlett let out a whine, her face tearing up, her mouth turning violently down as she tried to find something to say. Yet it eluded her, the distress shaking her to the core as she tried to blink back the tears. She felt herself being pushed in a daze she could not escape.

“Oh, Rhett…”

“So don’t tell me you don’t love me anymore, don’t tell me I have to give you up, because I know that’s a lie, and you know I can’t bear a lie from you,” His hands, big and strong, had released her wrists and were warm on her shoulders, and Scarlett felt her knees buckle weakly under her, surrendering to his imposing presence. “You’re the only one I can be myself with, and who can accept me as I am. And don’t lie, I know for you it is the same. Oh, sometimes it’s unbearable and I want to spank you…”

The daze gone for a moment, she lifted an eyebrow.

“Spank me?”

“Don’t get side-tracked, my dear. Oh God, I almost forgot how fun it could be to be with you!” Smiling with sudden fondness, he caressed her cheek and kissed the wrinkled brow. “Don’t scowl like this, honey. Me finding you amusing doesn’t me I’m looking down at you. Me thinking you amuse me means that each time I find something endearing, something that I love and which makes me love you more.”

“You…. You have no right to say such sweet things when I want to be angry and aloof with you.”

“Then I’ll continue, because I don’t want you to be angry and aloof with me.”

“Surprising.”

He chuckled and pressed her against him. The logs cracked soundly under the attack of the fire, red sparks jumping in the darkness.

“I should go.”

He pressed harder.

“You should not.”

“I…”

“No. Do not say anything. Not now. Please,” He rasped. “We’ll fight tomorrow, I promise. Just… Not now. Stay in my arms just a little more.”

“Richard will come after me,” She said urgently. “He saw me, after we… you know. After it, I…. I went to an inn to kill Olsen, but he died without I raised even a finger. Funny, isn't it?" She rambled, distressed. She had to make him see, but how? "And then, he saw me… And I thought, how to escape from him? How to make sure he would not go after you, Tara and the children? I needed to bide some time…”

“So you suggested him a game of chase,” Rhett realized. "You've tricked him once again."

What a mess, he thought. What a woman.

She lowered her gaze.

“Yes.”

“And you must have promised quite a lot if he accepted it.”

“I made him think it was his idea.”

“Of course, you did,” He said, begrudgingly admirative. “But that was quite the gamble you did. He could have not honored that little contract. Or the ones he works with.”

She glared at him, as if offended.

“I have the plans hidden, and people that can act at my place. I made that very clear. I was sure Richard would be single-minded in his search for me. And I did send Patrick to you…”

“Yes, I’ve seen you had quite the little gang. You quite forget to give them news, though.”

“I had no mean to, at first!" She protested. "And then… You did find them, didn’t you?”

He sighed. “Yes. Yes, I did.” He buried his head into the short yet thick mass of her hair, flagrant, spicy, and gathered her frail, too frail body against him. “You could have found me…”

“Could I?” She shook her head softly. “No, that would have been too obvious. I couldn’t take the risk to be taken on the way. And that would have led him exactly where I didn’t want him to be.”

It wasn’t all. But he did not press her.

“I’ll have to go.”

“No, you don’t.”

She turned urgent, vibrant green eyes towards him, the pupils little and mobile. 

“Help me find a way, then. For I on my own don’t know any other way,” She said distressingly. “I am dead, Rhett! How do you think I can go back? And how can I when…”

“Oh, my darling,” He soothed the worried lines on her face and kissed lightly her forehead. “I’ll find it. I’ll make it right…”

She took a step back, but he did not let her.

“You…”

“Trust me…” He whispered. “Trust me…”

His lips came on hers, on her jaw, on her throat. Her fingers laid on his chest, then slowly made their way to his hair to press him harder. She attacked his necktie, getting rid of it swiftly as if it was an offensive object, and unbuttoned the shirt and waistcoat until there was nothing more to hinder the wondering of her greedy hands on his naked chest.

It was a powerful experience, one so strong when she reciprocated each caress that he turned her, pressing her back to him so that his hands could wonder more freely on her frame and slip under the fabric that covered her breasts. The end of it was sharp yet tender, and he teased it, liking the way it made her breathless, her eyes begging for more.

She was the same and yet she wasn’t. Gone was the lost, uncertain look she had when she looked at him, replaced by a firm resolution. Gone was the sweet flowery scent, frivolous and airy, the scent of a girl trying to hide the loss of her innocence. Instead, it was a scent much spicier, earthier yet fresh and heady, with a complexity he had yet to decipher. The idea thrilled him and worried him at the same time. 

No. She was the same, he reasoned. It was maybe because of the lack of the usual perfumes she used, the means she had in hand being unavailable.

She tried to turn back, but he did not let her. “Let me touch you,” she said with a husky voice, yet he thought he would break if she did. She should not be allowed to see the extent of his vulnerability. And then she did not deserve it now, he decided. Let her pout and beg, that was her fault for leaving him in the dark for so long. She did not get to set the rules. 

The waistcoat fell on the floor, heavier than he expected, with a sharp click that could not be explained by the buttons he just worked on. He went on with the skirt, frowning.

“By God, Scarlett, don’t you wear any stays anymore? No basque? Any bloomers?”

She met his stare with a pert, teasing look as the skirt fell, leaving her only in her shift, that he slid slowly against her shape until, lightly, it escaped his grip.

“A gypsy doesn’t need some.”

“You’re driving me crazy,” He said longingly, pressing light kisses from the crook of her neck to the end of her shoulder. “And you’re wrong, wrong, wrong…”

She smiled lazily, her head nestled on his shoulder, eyes closed, and slight dimples on her cheeks. He pressed his lips here for a time, before continuing his way south. His kisses were like flickering flames licking her skin, and it made her feel hazy.

“Are you going to protest?”

A sudden thought came to him and he grew stiff. The hand left the breast as the other stayed on her belly. The fingers drew her jaw, and he turned her face sharply to him. 

“Did… someone touch you?”

She froze. Her eyes glared, the emerald turning dark against him, yet still filled with desire.

“Would it change something to your love if there was?” 

“Scarlett!”

She sighed, relaxing against him. Her figure became limp on him, adjusting to his shape so closely he almost groaned from the frustration of their moves stilling. 

“No. No, there isn’t. This community… They’re very protective of their own. And they’ve accepted me as their own. Surprisingly.”

“Oh, really?" He mused. "Well, that’d be the first time I lay with a gypsy…”

Her eyes narrowed.

“If you continue talking like that, you’ll be laying with no one.”

He did what he was told, yet his lips continued their language of love, and so did his hands. She hummed, her hands sliding from his hair to the blades of his shoulders.

“Do you… do you still like me now?” She said. “Without my hair?”

He was tempted to laugh. Scarlett with long hair was a delight, a straight, black river, soft and flagrant, on smooth, creamy way lightened by the green of her eyes.

Here, the strands around her face were barely grazing her collarbones, and, to the side, the cut was almost straight, a soft descend from the back of the head, much shorter, to these strands. It somehow made her face look longer and younger, like a mischievous pixy, instead of the enchantress he knew.

Twisting one long strand between her fingers in a self-consciousness that surprised him, she looked at him through thick lashes and bit her lower lip. Yet it stretched in a coquettish way that did not fool him.

“I… couldn’t bear to cut the strands of the front… You gripped too tight and too high, and I thought there was no time to lose, so…”

He chuckled.

“My darling, don’t be silly. You are beautiful and you know it… And hair can grow back anyway if you don’t like it.”

“I thought _you_ wouldn’t like it. You were always so… fond of them.”

He smirked.

“Weren’t you supposed to give up on me, darling?”

Her mouth pursed a little in a pout, her eyes shining with a plead that was his to answer.

“Rhett, don’t tease me…”

“Oh, I’m fond of you… very, very fond…”

He kissed her again to prove it, got rid of the remaining garments that separated them, and when her naked body pressed against him, there was no doubt to have.

He petted her and she meowed, wriggling slightly under his touch. He followed the direction of her desire, examining each one of her reactions until finally, he found a sweet spot to lay his hand on. Her knees soon buckled, and he followed her on the floor, his lips and hands more urgent, insistent. Her hips danced on him, pressing on him back and forth until finally, he decided to grant her what she wanted. 

He entered her slowly, welcomed by her warmth and sighs, and came back to it again with that same pace, smiling at her attempts to change it. Completion would come, love, he thought. Yet on my terms. On my terms…

And then she moaned loudly, her back arching and nails scratching his back, one hand sneakily slipping between them, touching him, and it was the end of him.

He pounced on her like an unleashed panther, and in his gestures, which had been smooth and gentle, there was now something wilder, rougher, tingled with a hint of anger that he had tried to conceal for too long, a sweet cruelty that mixed pleasure with pain, the pain of having thought he had lost her, the pain of her hiding from him that long. He could not say anything. Could not think. He could only feel, hear her meows becoming cries and his growls roars, the collision of their flesh, and smell the scent of their arousals mixed together.

He wanted to push her to her limits, over the edge as she always did him, and push he did, over and over. There was the hill she led him on, with the wind howling around them, and the sea storming underneath. He felt the salt of it, on him, on her, the swift rush of his blood in his veins.

Don’t leave me, he wanted to cry, his heart thumping in his chest. Stay into my arms, jump with me. Let me lead you there.

He pressed her back against his chest and prepared himself for the fall.

And when he finally did, it was like waves washing over them, filling their skins with exhilaration and goosebumps. He had conquered it, he thought with the glee of a man having survived drowning. He had conquered it, and now it was his, all his.

Yet, when he touched earth, a sudden cold came over him and he doubted.

For a moment, he thought he had taken too much of her, given her too much. She stayed still, her back on him, trembling violently. His heart throbbing painfully, he turned her softly, carefully, his hands cradling her beloved face to meet her eyes. She was breathing harshly, dark pupils conquering the green, and when the hardened tip of her breasts touched his chest, she said his name with want and put her arms around his neck.

He took a sharp intake of air and reciprocated her embrace, burying his nose on the crook of her neck, where the scent was stronger.

How full his heart, that she was accepting him, even the rougher, wilder side of him! How delightful that she seemed to revel in it and still wanted him!

They stayed silent for a time, snuggled fiercely on the floor until Scarlett decided it was comfier to lay her head on his chest, just where his heart beat. Her disheveled hair formed a dark cloud around her, and he smoothed it lazily with one hand, his gaze on the woman he adored.

“You’ve asked me if someone else touching you would change my love. I thought it was obvious.”

“Nothing was ever obvious with you,” She sighed, her fingers sliding down his chest, playing with the hair in there. She paused, then continued with a soft voice. “I was waiting, you know. At Tara. I didn’t know…”

“Didn’t know what?”

“Didn’t know if you still loved me.”

Raising on his elbows, he tried to take a better look at her face, but she stayed stubbornly still.

“What made you think so?”

“Well… You’ve said such terrible things, the last time…. And you did curse me at my own funerals…”

He sighed. Words came at the tip of his tongue, about the hurtful words she had sent him back, words that weren’t even hers, yet deciding otherwise. Instead, his face smoothed, unreadable, and she blinked and narrowed her eyes.

“You still have trouble understanding complex emotions, my dear.”

How could he even begin to describe the state he had been in, the darkness surrounding him, in him, urging him to surrender to his cruelest instincts? Now was not the time. He couldn't even think about these days without hers, did not want to think about it.

Her eyes raised sharply, her lips pursed with all the outrage of an offended divinity, and he wanted to laugh.

“Well, master of complexity, so much complex the term must have been invented for him, how can you explain such a thing?”

He kissed her brow, then the tip of her nose and grinned.

“Madness, honey. Being without you drives me mad.”

“And being with me drives you also mad.”

“A sweet kind of madness,” He said, and his eyes were filled with mirth. He sighed, seeing she would not let it go. “No, Scarlett. Nothing would change my love. It is here to stay, I fear.”

She chuckled, snuggling with delight in his arms.

“Yet, the one who touches you is dead. The one who hurts you is dead.”

“Oh, Rhett!” She cooed, very much pleased by the possessiveness in his words. “Do you truly think I would dress up like that if it had happened? Did you look closely at my skirt? Or… the inner pocket of my waistcoat?”

With a charming little gesture, she sat and pointed at the garments, revealing their secrets. He followed her, his arms around her and his chin on her head, grinning fondly at her enthusiasm.

“Oh. Quite lethal, my dear. If you manage to get closer.”

Her eyes glinted teasingly.

“Well, you’re quite close…”

“My dangerous little cat, unsheathing her claws to the world…” He smiled tenderly, kissing the tip of her fingers. “You think you are quick enough?”

“I think so. Do you want to try me?”

He laughed lightly,

“Oh, Scarlett… Where did your false modesty go? I’m beginning to miss it.”

“Liar.”

“Oh, it had its moments,” He stated, shrugging. “But I think I can find a way to make you blush again. Scratch me a little more, my love…”

“Rhett!”

Playfully, she tried to push him away, hitting his chest lightly with her long and fine hands, slightly freckled by her travel under the sun.

“Oh, stop it, you abusive woman. Let me kiss you again,” He did so, pressing his lips against her a long time as if he was savoring the instant, before grinning and tickling her cheek with his mustache. “There, now I’m all better, all cured…”

She giggled.

“Oh, stop, yourself! You’re talking to me like you do with the children!”

“Oh, I’m quite glad they are not here at this precise moment, my dear.”

He grinned lazily against her and she giggled once more, pushing him away lightly so that she could see his expression. Her eyes twinkled with the greedy mirth of a cat that had licked its cream wipe clean.

“How are they?”

“Fine. They miss you. They’ll be overjoyed when they’ll see you.”

“And I missed them too… So much.”

“And not me?” He protested lightly, dramatically pressing her hand on his chest. “My, Scarlett, you’re breaking my heart.”

“Oh, you rascal! You know I did!”

He looked at her with gleaming, seeking eyes, his love like a strong flame that threatened to burst from his body as he found what he was looking for.

“I know. Oh, yes… I know.”

He kissed her again, and they shared the warmth once more, their bodies colliding with less urgency than before, yet the same thirst they tried to satisfy. When the noises of the party began to fade, they stayed in each other’s arms, the rhythm of their hearts the only music they wanted to hear. The logs had turned to ashes in the fireplace, yet there were still some embers burning.

“So… what are you going to do?” Scarlett said finally, breaking the silence.

“My pet,” He said tenderly, spreading kisses on the edge of her shoulder. “Don’t burden yourself with such things… I’ll take care of it.”

Her body stiffened a fraction of seconds, her eyes away. Yet her face gave nothing away, and soon the lids closed when she felt the intoxicating pressure of his lips on her skin as they went up along her throat, until they reached the junction between her jaw and the lobe of her ear.

“And… I suppose I’ll have to wait for you and stay hidden with the children?”

“For a time. Then it’ll be alright. Just like before, when there was only you, me, and the children. I promise you.”

She stayed silent a moment, her eyes closed, and he looked at her, a bit questioning. He laid his forehead on hers and waited. There was something that he couldn’t identify yet, something that worried him in this silence, and he waited, his eyes on her lips. 

“… Yes, Rhett.”

He sighed with relief and pressed her more tightly against him. Battle-weary for the day, he allowed himself to close his eyes and believe it would all go according to plans.

Yet, when he opened them again, a chill crept through a banging window and ashes laid cold in the fireplace. A thick cover had been put on him, yet there was no Scarlett in sight. He raised up abruptly and looked around, his heart jumping to his throat. 

There was nothing for him in the room now. Nothing but a piece of paper on the chessboard, put under the piece of the king.

.

_‘Rhett,_

_You might not agree with what I’m doing. And what I may do. But I want you to know. No matter what, I love you. You and the children… You are my world, and you know how I tend to be when it comes to what I consider mine. I can’t be the queen to your king (yes, I’m sure that’s your middle name, don’t you ever deny it!) if it means turning a blind eye to everything that is happening. Not anymore. I’ve seen, I’ve done too much to stay aside like you would wish me to do now._

_I know you will worry for my safety, as I did when it came to you, too many times. I understand what it’s like. But it’s something I have to do. And that’s something you will need to understand yourself._

_You've told me once you wanted my heart and my mind. There, you have it. But I’m sure now you don’t think of it as something to wish for from what I’ve gathered, for it is not something you can pet and indulge when you feel like it. It fights, whether it is for you or by your side. And as much as I’d like to be by your side, I see no way it can go well for both of us in the present state, and for the children as well. I am too deeply involved, it is not something that can be stopped._

_Give my love to the children, tell them I’ll do everything to get back to them, to get back to us._

_We are alike, my love. We’ll meet again. You will have to trust_ me _. If you don’t want to anymore, you’re free to make a new life and I’ll have only myself to blame for losing you…_

_But if you can’t now but still want me, then you have to trust that I will do anything to survive, just like I know you will do the same. Honor and glory never suited us if it meant we had to starve or die. It’s a gamble I have to take._

_Don’t you dare try to prove me wrong, you contrarious man, by putting your life in jeopardy! Keep your piracies to other things, I beg of you._

_Forever_

_Your Scarlett._

_PS: I fear, my dear, you’ll have to pay more attention to your purse. Some persons (though very well-intentioned, in fact) could easily put their claws on it.’_

.

He cursed loudly.


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you as always for your constant support.
> 
> Here today, a big, big chapter, very essential that I hope you will like, and that I hope will satisfy you. I will have less time to write these days, for I found a job (yesss!). Yet I hope to be able post soon. The end is in sight, my friends!
> 
> Good reading!

It is said that at night, all cats are grey. Scarlett was no cat, nor even grey anywhere, thank God, but she understood nonetheless what it meant. 

It meant that she could wander around and do what she wanted as long as she made sure she was disguised and armed enough.

It meant she could meet her O’Hara cousin, that she had bumped into on the way to Savannah and who made her change her way to Augusta, and work for Richard’s loss in Ireland from her place in America. 

An interesting turn of events. She had rarely met the O'Hara part of her family, so it came as a surprise it happened that way, when she had thought to find some hideout in that lesser-known branch of the family tree. 

Rhett had once said that there was money to be made in the rise and fall of the empires. She had taken note of it and was determined not to be the fool in the story. She knew fairly well that being a member of a family did not mean another would not try to take advantage of her. She had been on both sides after all and knew better than to be the ignorant bullied again. The man had tried to sugar-coat it, tried to make her feel like she was the one with debt, without mentioning he was the one that was refused in others’ houses.

So, she, knowing how to be the main attraction, naturally took into herself to open some doors to her impoverished family and played the bait and the intermediary between the holders of Augusta’s stock of unused weapons, and the cause a part of her family fought for. Especially when she heard a certain English lord’s propriety was on the list of the targets, and she could pressure them a little more for it to become the main one.

After all, what kind of person would stay in America when their land was at stake? 

So she would attract the right persons, and lead them to her cousin or his friends, until a deal was settled. 

Oh, it was certainly very satisfying to be for once on the good side, the one that was researched, to be appreciated just like she wanted to be appreciated. And in Augusta, it had seemed so easy!

She was not quite sure Pa would have liked her taking a percentage of the Fenian Cause. Yet, she figured he would be one to look at the world the way he wanted it to be. He would have certainly been proud she would contribute to such a cause, he who hated so much the English and the Orangemen. 

This was a reassuring thought. She kept it on. She and Pansy needed that money, after all. So what was the wrong in using one cause not only to subsist, but also to serve another?

Pansy at first was quite dubitative. But the thought of a revolution quite pleased her, and she played her role too, though her main focus was not on it. She wanted to gather testimonies, she said. She wanted to publish a book of it, to awaken the consciences. Yet, until then, it had not really bitten. There were already some autobiographies in the market, some said. It had to be enough to satisfy, they said. 

It was not enough for Pansy. 

Scarlett had been worried when Pansy disappeared for a week, and Aren too now that she thought of it. It was supposed to be for a few days. 

So she lingered in Augusta, waiting, innerved and worried. 

And of course, Rhett had to drop in and shake her plans. As always. He had to shatter her resolve. He almost did. But for all of her love for him, she knew nothing good could happen from “going back to what they had”. Back to what they had meant in fact less than she once had, for how could she go back to her old life when everyone thought of her as dead? When a villain was actively searching for her?

It meant she would not be allowed to do anything but wait, and Scarlett was not ready to be held like a prisoner in one place, even for the love of her children and husband. There was this part of her, almost forgotten, that was telling her it was wrong, and she would lose more than hours of boredom behind locked doors. 

Yet, it was not something she thought spontaneously. She wanted to believe in Rhett, she really did. Yet, how could she when she wasn’t even sure of him, to know him? He had known everything about her, had always had the upper hand. But she? Nothing at all. 

She had to find out. 

And strangely, by one of these lucky coincidences that seemed all too convenient, the group she was traveling with decided to go to Charleston, and with them came her cousin, who wanted to overlook the good delivery of the weapons to its port.

Charleston. City of stiff and boring people, yet city that saw the birth and rejection of her husband. But who was she to deny the design of fate?

So, to Charleston she went, then. 

….

_… Solene was worried about her friend, but she knew her to be resourceful and fierce._

_Personally, she was on the way to a strange kingdom near the sea to sell some precious gunpowder from her previous adventure, and maybe she could find the scent of her love here. The sea was his own realm, after all. Could she finally learn who he really was, there?_

_On the way, she heard from an old man a place just built._

_“Yea, dear Miz,” he said. “Dis a place of equality an’ culture, a hope for my chillen who kain learn dere. A place where dey kain held der head high. Dis make me think of an ol’ story, where two people finally met dere, an’ work togeder, even despite der differences.”_

_“Will you tell it to me?” Solene asked._

_The man looked at her with mischievous eyes, and said: “Ye will have to wait and see, Miz. Dis better I show you.”_

_She thought of her children, and wanted to tell them she loved them, and that she would bring back a whole ship for them, so they would be able to have their own adventures when the time came._

_But for now, they’d have to wait, the poor sweethearts, and keep watching the horizon._

_She took the man’s hand and he brought her to that new place._

….

Scarlett arrived in the city on a great, stormy day. Pansy did not come when she waited for her near the Avery Institute. She was cat-called by some yet took it into herself to ignore it. She was not Scarlett Butler anymore, a known figure born into relative gentility, though a very contested and scandalous one, that could afford to be offended by this. 

In fact, she found out very few things offended her these days. Actually, now that she thought of it, she realized being thought of as dead had also the very advantage of being able to act more freely. And then, could a dead woman be a lady? 

Strangely, in these circumstances, it did not seem as important as it once was. It was like something that faded away, an illusion that had broken, and she felt as liberated as she did after a few days without corset. She felt light, airy, and deliciously free.

She might never be a lady, she realized. Yet, it was alright. It wasn’t nearly as important as she thought it was. Not nearly as important as her freedom, as her love for her husband and children. 

She was herself, and it was almost enough. She found out there was truth in what Rhett had told her once: until you’ve lost your reputation, you never realize what a burden it was or what freedom really is.

Pansy did not come the next days, and there was this one time when she met Mrs. Butler senior on the way, who offered her shelter for a few hours in her home.

Her face was a mask of polite courtesy, cold and hard like an armor, with clear eyes that left nothing of their true emotions. When the lady saw her, she blinked, and Scarlett feared she might be recognized. But it couldn’t be. Mrs. Butler had only come once, for Bonnie’s funerals. She had been a very helpful lady, soft and firm. Scarlett could not quite remember it, so focused as she was not to cry in front of so many eyes. She had to keep going and showing any weakness would have been the end of her, she had thought. 

If she recognized her, she said nothing about it at that moment. She gave her a warm blanket near the fireplace and food, as befitted the hospitality of the old South, and sat with her, her eyes unreadable and thoughtful. Scarlett looked around, yet she could not see any family portrait with a young Rhett. It saddened her and frustrated her for in front of her was the woman that had answers to her questions, however she did not dare to ask. Who knew if that lady would not write to Rhett and tell her that a strange gypsy had asked about him? 

It was with unrest Scarlett looked at her as the latest finally turned her gaze into the fire. There was a wistfulness in her voice, and a pleasant tone, filled with the relief of talking to a stranger that you will only see once. 

“My daughter is getting married. She must have the same age as you, I suppose. A young Mr. Favell. An Englishman, rich. I don’t know if he suits her. She could have gone for a duke. Her father would have liked that. Ross said as long as there were love and honor on both parts, and the man was a gentleman, it would be alright. Yet, Rhett, my other son… He thinks she could have gone for better.”

She sighed. 

“Such polar opposites, Ross and Rhett. My two sons. One has all the appearance of a gentleman. He is gentle, very malleable and soft-spoken. He loves books, perhaps even than people and life itself. He had not a passion for it, though I doubt he has passion for anything really. The other is stubborn and hard, yet is so full of life and love…” She shook her head. “I wish I had protected him better. I fear if he’s not guided enough, he’ll lose that love of life, and ends up as bitter and weary as his father. He already became so hard! Oh, I can see that he’s a difficult man to love. Not like Ross. Ross is easy to love. I should not compare them both, but a mother can’t help it. Ross never asked me for more, and avoided conflicts. Rhett thrived in it.”

“Did he, really?” Scarlett could not help but intervene, unaware of the eagerness in her clear green eyes.

There was something in Mrs. Butler’s smile that did not please her. 

“I suppose his wife knows better.”

Scarlett froze, and fluttered her lashes innocently. “He has a wife, ye say?”

“Gone,” Mrs. Butler replied. 

“Dis is sad.”

“So very sad, indeed. It takes a rare woman to be with Rhett, and I thought she was it.”

Scarlett faltered. “Really?”

“Yes. Though she was very young. She was hard, like him. Perhaps harder. A bit frivolous, maybe, but Rhett needs that. He can get bored easily.”

Scarlett leaned back and pursed her lips. “Dat’s a pretty picture ye draw.”

Mrs. Butler tilted her head, as if surprised, yet there was something in her lips, that looked too much like Rhett’s to be completely honest.

“Perhaps because I believe he needs a lesson. Perhaps because, if she were alive, I know she would need a lesson as well.”

“And I suppose you see yourself as the one who has to teach that lesson?” Scarlett quipped.

Rhett’s mother let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “No. I let that to his father and Rhett. I want no part in this. She can rest easy.”

Scarlett relaxed. In the fireplace, the logs burned right, and she pondered on what had been said. Would it change a thing? She did not know. She could not return to Rhett. Not now. 

He would have to wait. If he could. 

Oh, she hoped he would!

…

She met Pansy the next day and they settled the next steps. And then a few days after, Patrick came to her with a grin, greeting her with a cheerful: “Your husband set up quite the prize for getting you back.”

That was obvious. She knew he would. She offered Patrick a beer, hoping to bide some time. And to convince him otherwise.

“It’s fair. I understand.” She said.

This offended him more than any protestation and plea. She knew it, and he fell into it. She ordered him another drink, her nails idly following the lines of the pine table. 

“You’re not supposed to understand, lass!” He shouted. 

“My husband is a very convincing man. I’m sure he had quite the arguments for you.”

She played with his guilt, she knew that. But it was no time yet for her to go back to Rhett and the children. 

“You did not give us news, lass.” He said, more softly after his fourth beer.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to lie for me. There are too many lies already. I knew there was a chance Rhett would try to find me, and in the time you.”

“Har! You’re an unpredictable one, I have to admit.”

She smiled. He was ready to listen to her.

“I give you a deal. I will not give you away… yet,” He said with his big, booming voice. “You’re onto something, I see that, lass, and knowing you, it’s going to bring some mess, but also some money too. I want a part of this.”

That was far less than what Rhett had promised, and she refrained from saying so in her surprise. His big mouth stretched. She realized then that he was on her side, more loyal than she would have expected.

Yet, that did not mean his loyalty was completely free.

“Why?” She asked quietly.

“You may be unpredictable, but at least I know you’ll pay back. I’m not sure about that husband of yours. I’ve heard too many stories about him.”

“I’ve heard some too,” She said innocently. “People do talk a lot.”

Rhett had already done that to her. It was only fair she used it as well.

“And then, I hear that may create some havoc to the English.” He added, leaning all his weight on the back of his chair. It cracked awfully, yet he did not seem to remark it. “I hate England.”

She grinned. 

By the time she was done with him, he was ready to sail himself to Ireland to create a riot and invade England. And she left, a few dollars gone, but at least she had bought herself some time. 

She joined with Pansy and Aren at another pub and allowed herself some brandy as a prize. 

They did not really talk about the time they were apart. Pansy by pride. Scarlett, because she did not want to think that her friend might have betrayed her location. She talked frivolously, and Pansy answered in that odd way of hers, too down-to-earth even for her sake. Aren was silent, glaring at her as if she had stolen him some money.

But there came a time when even Scarlett did not know what to say, and Pansy dared to put her foot in her mouth for another matter that was beginning to be worrying.

“Are you alright, Scarlett? You’re pale.”

She shrugged, pursing her lips in a pout.

“Yes. I’m just tired.”

Pansy’s eyebrow raised, yet there was concern in her eyes.

“You’re often tired, these days…”

“Fiddle-dee-dee, I’ll just get some sleep, and it’ll be alright!” Scarlett quipped. 

It was true that she was tired these days. Tired and a bit sick. Oh, nothing like a pregnancy, thank God! Not now, at this terrible moment! Mind you, her times had been quite irregular since her miscarriage, but the few drops of blood she saw were enough. She couldn’t be pregnant. It was not possible. Not now.

And well, she knew her own body. She wouldn’t miss it if it was so.

She froze. 

At the entrance, Adrian had just arrived. 

Scarlett leaned in and gestured at him discreetly, her heart racing. 

“Distract him.” She said urgently, crouching, even considering to hide under the big table they had settled around.

“What?” Pansy’s eyes widened. Aren scowled. 

“Flirt with him. I don’t know! But he must not see me!” She continued, panic rising in her voice. “You know how to do it, of course?”

Pansy’s offended expression would have been laughable if there wasn’t such a hurry. Yet, Scarlett did not see it and felt the need to elaborate. 

“Look at him as if… as if he had the power to change the world we are in by a stroke of the fingers.”

“That makes me want to cut his fingers instead…” Scarlett stared at her, bewildered, and Pansy shrugged. “What? What if that power could be transmitted? Why would I trust a man that I’ve only seen once to change a world all alone?”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Your examples are stupid.”

“And you’re awkward,” Scarlett retorted. “Where is that girl that smirked at me when that man in the street looked at her over?”

“Oh!! Look, and you’ll see!”

Yet, Pansy raised, and Aren clenched his fists.

“It’s a bad thing you did, Scarlett,” He muttered. “She’s not like you. Thank God.”

“If you don’t like it, come and act on it,” Scarlett replied with a singing voice.

“She’s not going to do it anyway.”

And indeed, Pansy took a few steps towards the man, and came back abruptly. 

“It is one thing to recognize one’s own value,” She said, and there was almost a blush on her cheeks. “It is another to seduce a man you don’t even want to seduce.”

“I told you she wouldn’t!” Aren grinned.

Pansy’s eyes narrowed, and Scarlett was tempted to laugh at it. Some men were fools when it came to love. Even clever men. This was no exception, she thought. In his relief, he had encouraged her.

“I’m going to charm him so much he’ll not even know the name of his mother!” Pansy held her head high and squared her shoulders. 

This time, it worked, and Scarlett almost stayed behind to see the results. 

Yet, the room was suffocating, and she escaped it as soon as she could. 

It was a clear, fresh night. She took long whiffs of air with delight, the gust tickling her skin pleasantly. She walked some time, her arms around herself as if to gather her mind that was already far away. 

Yes, freedom was exhilarating. She tasted it and liked it very much. She felt challenged by it. It went through her with a thrill of passion, like the beginning of a love story. 

Yet, she already had a love story. 

Around her, she smelt the rich scent of the city, modern and traditional, and it tasted like smoke and dust and salt. It was busy despite its appearance of idle calmness, hard despite its leisureliness. It had changed since the last time she went there. Still, it did not feel like home. She missed the red clay of Tara, missed its white-washed façade. She missed Ella’s laughter. She missed the twinkle in Rhett’s eyes, the faith in Wade’s. 

_I fear if he’s not guided enough, he’ll lose that love of life, and ends up as bitter and weary as his father._

Was love the loss of freedom? And freedom the loss of love? She did not want to answer that question. She wanted to keep hoping. She wanted to keep trying. 

She paused and did not turn back. Aren was at her side, silent yet an angry silence. She let him ruminate it and waited for Pansy to return. And when she did, she greeted her with a smile.

“You did it?”

“And with a tip on it!” Pansy grinned. Aren said nothing, yet his eyes said it all. “I locked him in his room.”

“Not quite refined, but I suppose it works.”

“I don’t do refine.”

Scarlett chuckled, eyes on the stars. They shone dimly that night. Under that same sky, her children must be sleeping, tucked under the covers by someone else. It was not Rhett’s time to do so. Her love was a night owl, smoking, organizing, scribbling some ideas with the flitting light of a candle, that he would try to apply on the morrow. Or was he partying and drinking? What Rhett was he now? The unsatiable one of the beginning, full of fun and passion, or the polite stranger of the next years? Her best friend or her enemy? 

Maybe a mix of them all. He was not one to be limited by such words.

He said she was the love of her life. That he would not let her go. Yet, she could not yield to him. Not yet. 

“So… New-York, next week?” Pansy finally said. 

Scarlett nodded, and gathered the hems of her shawl. 

“Don’t forget to bring the gift.”

“Of course.”

When she could not bear the atmosphere between Pansy and Aren, noiseless but excruciating, she left them. She was barely out of their sight that her father’s former protegee took a step forward and kissed suddenly her friend, with passionate possessiveness. 

Was she hindering everyone’s life? She did not quite know. Aren clearly made it clear that he thought so. Yet, Pansy never said a word about it. Instead, she felt like being her friend had given her a strength she had lacked at a vulnerable part of her life. She had found support once again, a support that was linked to her own qualities, and to her friend’s, and it pleased her.

She had lost Melly, and realized the extent of her worth at the last moment. She did not want to make the same mistake. Both women were as different as day and night. Yet, they were the same unlikely friends she did not know she needed. 

She looked at them in longing, wishing Rhett were here. 

Yet, he wasn’t there, and she passed on the way a tall dark man, with a face hidden by the shadows. The way would be long tomorrow, she thought. She returned to the inn to order another glass of brandy. A brandy that had a strange taste in it. A familiar taste, that swiftly opened new darkness under her feet.

…

The next thing she knew, she woke up in a bed, with darkness surrounding her, and another familiar scent tickling her nostrils. If she was surprised by it, she did not let it show. There was a daze in her mind, a red daze of betrayal and pain induced by the circumstances. And that was not only on her wrists. 

“In shackles, Rhett? Really?” She scowled. “Am I a criminal to be treated so?”

“I’ve tried to be gentle, my dear. But last time proved me it wasn’t the way, with you,” Rhett stepped into the light, his fists clenched in his pockets. “Did you hear that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. But thrice? Darling, you’re in Charleston. Do you really think you could have escaped me there?”

She raised an eyebrow, infuriated.

“I don’t know. You did not quite see me in Tara.”

He snorted, clearly still offended by it.

“That’s a trick you still have to apologize for.”

“In your dreams.”

He smiled widely, leaned close to her, and she cursed herself that he would still use her words to turn the situation around as he wished. She could smell his breath, fresh like a wave of clear seawater.

“In my dreams, we are doing other things, honey. Mind that I show you?”

“Oh!! Come here, you skunk and I’ll show you…”

She was trying to be belligerent. She was really trying to be. She was angry, that was for sure.

“That’s the spirit!”

“You’re always mocking me for whatever I do!”

“You’ve helped a madman escape and abduct a child, and then you set out an entire traffic of thievery and scams,” He jeered. “Congratulations, darling.”

“Oh, you’re unbearable!” She cried. “It’s for a good purpose, and you’d know it if you only tried to listen to me! But it’s not what bothers you the most, isn’t it? It’s still about Ashley. I’ve saved a man and his child from a life of misery, and you still are jealous of him!”

“A good purpose that paid quite a lot for you. Not that I blame you, of course. I would have done the same,” He said as she was about to protest. Then his eyes darkened. “And a life of hiding in another state if they are lucky, without certainty that your beloved little Ashley might not one day go back to his own pattern. That’s not something to be jealous of.”

“A new beginning, in a new place so that they will not always be plagued by the past,” She insisted. “A hope, at least. Hope in a world where there are so few.”

He took a step back, frowning.

“You’re twisting things, dear.”

“And so are you!” She protested. “You do that because you don’t trust me !”

“And with good reasons, that you provide every day, darling. But it’s not a matter of trusting,” He said quickly as he saw her scowl. “It’s a matter of not agreeing with your plan of going on your own guerilla and risking your life when I can easily resolve it.”

“Oh, can you?” She snarled. “Then what is taking you so long?”

“Scarlett…” He warned her.

“It’s a matter of trusting, you know it. Reasons, you might have, but so do I, don’t you ever forget it!” “What can you do in the open, Rhett Butler the Formidable? I can do many things in the shadows that you can’t…” She paused, then regained her wits. “And besides, I know you’re working on other things. Don’t deny it, I’ve been in enough places to know it. You might have thought you would find me first, but then it kept nagging you, didn’t it? You can’t be everywhere at once. And the children need you.”

He leaned on the wall, his hand almost white on it. She did not see his face, but she did not need to. Her heart broke just by seeing his posture.

“The children need their mother. And I… need you. Reading your stories is not enough.” Her eyes widened in realization. So that was really how he had found her… “And you were right in a way that it’s a matter of trust. I thought you would be able to trust me to fight your battles.”

“Trust goes both ways, Rhett. And you’ve said it. They are my battles. What am I if I’m not able to fight them?” Her voice quivered. “What is there for us now?”

“Each other, Scarlett,” He replied, and she knew he believed it. “The children. And that’s already a lot.”

She shook her head sadly. Oh, couldn’t he see? Or maybe he saw it and he did not care?

No, she did not want to think about it. It felt unfair.

“The only thing you can do is locking me up, for we can’t just go back to where we were before the house burned,” She said softly. “You’re changing walls, but the context is the same. It’s a cage, Rhett, a golden one, but a cage nonetheless.”

He said nothing to that.

“You fell in love with a girl, Rhett,” She insisted. “and you stayed with that girl in mind. I so, so deeply love you. You know it’s true. But I’m a woman now, and I won’t be treated like it. You once told me we were so alike. As people alike I demand then that we could be equal.”

“Pretty words, that did not come on your own.”

She shrugged.

“Maybe. Yet that counts all the same. Just because I did not come to it first doesn’t mean I don’t understand it and I did not make it my own.”

He sighed, and she felt the burden on his shoulders as if it was on hers.

She knew what she said would not please him. Yet, she had to say it nonetheless.

“You do not know what you ask.” He said finally.

“I do. It is you that do not want to consider it.”

She sighed, looking at her surroundings.

“I don’t even know where I am,” She muttered.

“You’re at Dunmore Landing, Scarlett,” Her husband said, with his signature smile that was jeering not only at her, but also at himself. “My father’s only pride and joy. I almost turned it into a whorehouse to spite him.”

She huffed, trying to cross her arms, before realizing she couldn’t. Damn the handcuffs. 

“Surprising, considering your fondness to this kind of… establishments. I imagined it differently. I thought it had burned.”

He shrugged.

“Unfortunately, it has been my duty as the fortunate son to try to keep it.”

“Since when do you follow duty?”

He chuckled, which infuriated her even more.

“Tell me, Rhett,” She said bitterly. “Does it make you feel like a man, to keep me in that room like a prisoner?” 

“It does give me some ideas…”

“Oh, you’re insufferable!” She hissed. “I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!”

Yet, he did not seem to take it seriously.

“You know, darling, the more you repeat it, the more it loses its sense.”

“Oh, really? Then I love you, I love you, I…”

He kissed her abruptly.

“Now, that’s the truth.”

“Don’t… ever think about it.” She said as he tried to do it again. Yet, her voice was weaker than she would have liked it to be. She knew if he continued, her resolve would break, and he would win once again.

He chuckled, taking a step back.

“Darling, I’ve lived in a cold bed for most of our marriage, waiting for you to call me back…”

“… with no reason to, husband,” She could not help but retort. “The door was ajar most of the days…”

She shut her mouth, but the deed was done. He lifted his black brow, the corner of his mouth turning down in a rictus.

“Oh, so you were expecting me to go back on my own? Was that why you always made sure there were always toys in the way when I came back from my… little escapades? So that I might go and complain to you?” His eyes danced. “And here I thought you only wanted to torture me. That’s an interesting thing to know. Too bad I hadn’t understood it at the time.”

She glared.

“Perhaps because there were other beds.”

“If your bed was close to me and open to another, I believe I had the right of it.”

“If you cared for me at all, you wouldn’t even have _thought_ of it.”

His eyes flared.

“Like you thought of Ashley Wilkes? Do you think it was easy, to go from one bed to another? To try to find you in these women but failing, to wonder if you thought of me, if you even cared about what I was doing, where I was going? To go on, wait for any of your reactions, finding none... I died a little more each day, waiting for you!”

Now, that was too much.

“Of course I cared, you idiot!” She snapped. “But could I tell you so? No, of course, you would have mocked me. It was already bad to have people looking down at me, but not you! Not you!” She cried, suddenly lowering her head to hide the tears in her eyes. “Don’t play the victim on me, Rhett. How could I tell you anything? It is a world where men can easily take women to bed and people will only shrug and pat him on the shoulder, and when it’s the woman, she’s the devil incarnate! A lady must not do this. She is allowed to think of it, dream of it, but God forbids she does it! I’ve been raised in it, without escape. And now you’re telling me I was not allowed to find relief in dreaming? Name of God, that’s too much!”

“And I am the one who plays the victim?” He seethed. “Couldn’t you find it with me?”

She stared at him.

“I did. Sometimes. But then you would do one thing, say one thing and I’d knew I couldn’t rely on you. Name of God, do I have to have only you in my mind, night and day? You can’t even say I’m in yours like that, and don’t even try to say it! I’d know it’s a lie. My bed had never been open to another. Dreams aren’t acts, Rhett, and anyway, they were never more than that of a few kisses and a ride in the sunset, and never more than that!”

He shook his head, sobered.

“Scarlett, I don’t want to know…”

He wanted to escape the situation, she knew it, but she couldn’t let him. Her fists clenched as she continued.

“You are the one that brings it up, so now you’re going to hear it loud and clear until it ceased to enter your mind! They were the dreams of a girl, a girl in need of comfort and ideals in a world that only gave her a few. But you’re not a boy. You knew how you felt, and you closed that door yourself, even before I demanded us to go on separate beds. I wouldn’t have dreamed it if you hadn’t been so damned restrained all the time! Why, you had only to kiss me, as you did during your proposal, and I wouldn’t even have been able to have a coherent -!”

She blushed, having said much more than she wanted to. Oh, he could be insufferable.

“Oh, like this?”

He kissed her, taking her breath away. She felt him grin when her arms went around him, yet she couldn’t help it. Her heart leaped with longing at being so close to him.

“And now you’re trying to get away with it all, and it’ll come back over and over, and you’ll always have your way.” She whined, her knees shaking when he ended it. She leaned on him with the dizzying impression that if she didn’t, she would faint and fall. “Don’t play with me, Rhett.”

He sighed.

“I’m not one, my dear, to want to linger on the past constantly, yet I know there are times when it drives me crazy. _You_ drive me crazy.”

“ _You_ are the one driving yourself crazy,” She quipped, before tilting her head and begrudgingly adding. “I only help sometimes.”

He looked at her and laughed, and when that laugh ended, he sighed. 

“I’m normally not one to mourn for something that did not happen. I have you now, and I do not intend to let you go. Again. That’s the true thing that is important.”

His head lowered, his jaw clenching painfully. She tried to see his face, but all she could see was that jaw, these lips almost trembling from emotion letting out a deep, yet vulnerable voice that shook her to the core. 

“It would break me.”

_I fear if he’s not guided enough, he’ll lose that love of life, and ends up as bitter and weary as his father._

She faltered.

“Rhett…”

“You say I always got my way. But if I truly did, we would never have been there…”

“So, it’s my fault?”

“No! No, not only. Mine, the world… I don’t want to argue with you. Darling, I can’t bear to do the list now. I just want you to be with me. Is that too much to ask?” 

A pang of guilt hit her heart and she bit her lip. She could not reply as the thoughts ran on her mind wildly, barely coherent.

“Don’t you want to be with me?”

His hands cupped her face, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“You know I do.”

_But not like this._

He released a relieved breath and gathered her against him, tightly.

“As you wish, Rhett,” She said, before raising her brow and hands. “Am I going to see the children in shackles?”

“Are you going to try to escape once again?”

“I’m defeated, am I not?”

He sighed.

“I wonder who’s the most defeated,” She heard him whisper slowly to himself as he took out the key from his pocket. “Try not to look too angry. The children would think…”

“Of course, I won’t!” She interrupted, offended. “What do you take me for?”

It was a bittersweet joy to be able to press the children against her again. It was a place she had longed for, yet she found that as soon as she was with them, other concerns were raised, and she could not shake them off.

Pansy was waiting for her next week. Would she be able to call it off? Had she abandoned her friend to a trap? 

Could she escape long enough? Or was it too late anyway?

She was there, and she wasn’t. She replied automatically, flattered as she could. Yet, she still felt the loss, still felt the anxiety.

“Mama, are you going to tell the story?” Ella asked suddenly.

“I…” She hesitated, tried to look for any idea in any corner of her mind. Yet, she only found a deep emptiness, and a frustration that blocked her even more. “I’m sorry, darling, not today. I can’t.”

Rhett looked up, staring at her closely. His brows creased with a preoccupied expression, and she attempted to smile.

“Then… can you read a book to me?”

They read Rapunzel, yet the end did not seem that satisfactory. Nor the beginning. 

“Oh, why would the witch lock her away?” Ella complained. “That’s not really nice.”

“That’s because she’s the villain, silly,” Wade replied. “Only a villain would do something like that.”

“Mama?”

“I don’t know. I…” She looked at Rhett, who was lowering his head, his eyes dark and blank, yet his hands twisting achingly in front of him. “I believe… sometimes there are other reasons…”

“Like what?

She tried to find the words to it, but they failed her, and she found herself staring at her husband for guidance. 

“Sometimes, children, a person needs to be protected from the outside world, and from herself. Sometimes, those around them are worried about them, and want them to be safe.”

“Yet, that is no way to live, Rhett,” She said softly as the words settled. She tried to laugh it off, yet it sounded false. “And anyway, Rapunzel is such a ridiculous name. One’d be ashamed to be called after a salad, so much that I doubt they would leave their tower anyway.”

She was the one to tuck the children at bed this time, Rhett following her everywhere, gaze and body. She said nothing about it and went back to bed. He settled on the chair next to it, and she heard him squirm and fidget on it, his strong body too big to fit in it. 

The first minutes of uneasiness were almost a delight for her. Yet the next ones were too much to bear.

“Oh, that’s ridiculous!” She protested. “Come here, you overdramatic scoundrel. I’m not cruel enough to make you sleep on a chair! Besides, the bed is big enough…”

The bed cracked as he slipped under the sheets with her, and she turned away, embarrassed that he would see the effect of him undressing had on her.

“Don’t blame me for the things you do not dare to ask me, Rhett,” She said wearily. “I have enough to blame myself for.”

“Oh, that’s a shame, ” He tried to jeer. “But to whom should I put it? You were always an easy choice... A too easy choice, I guess.”

“It is done, Rhett. It’s no use. Sleep. I can’t bear to see these purple shadows under your eyes. Do you even sleep?”

There was nothing for a moment, and she thought he had headed her command, for once. It was dark, and she was innerved by it, by that silence between them.

“I can’t without you,” He replied softly. “Not anymore.”

She turned back, begrudgingly moved by the need in his voice. Oh, that infuriating man! Why was it that he always managed to play the most sensitive strings of her heart, even when she wanted to be angry with him?

Why was she so easily softened by him? Why was it so painful to see him like this?

“Is that why you drank that much in Tara?”

“It’s easier to forget you’re not here when you can’t even remember your name.”

“I’m here now.”

“Are you?”

She sighed.

“What sort of question is that? You feel me, don’t you?” She chided, before softening. “Sleep, Rhett. Else, I will not be able to as well, and I’ll scream at you on the morrow.”

He chuckled quietly. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She had a nightmare, that night. A dark, blank nightmare, with nothing to see, nothing to touch. A heavy emptiness around her, in her, that she could not fight. When she woke up, Rhett was by her side, soothing and warm. She lost herself in his embrace and went back to sleep. This dream did not mean anything. It did not matter. 

The next few days, she wandered around the house like a lioness in a cage, razing the walls. Yet, there was no way out. There were two men, too similar to be anything but brothers, that were guarding the exit, and Rhett was never far. 

Once, she heard voices behind a locked door, and she stayed to hear them. She recognized Todd’s voice, and Patrick’s.

“… At least, with her, I know where we stand. She got a debt with us, and I know she’ll settle it. She had my back, and I’m not one to forget that. Am not goin’ to say anything to you, when I’m not sure you’ll not throw me aside like some trash and forget to pay. I know what others say about ya, speculator. I’ve heard you shot once someone who tried to make you pay.”

“He was shouting too loud,” Rhett retorted. “In fact, a bit like you, if I might say.”

She tiptoed, leaning in to hear better.

“What my friend says is not well-turned, yet, it is true,” Todd said. “Yet he tells the truth. We’ve worked with Scarlett. We know her...”

“And she’s not available for another one of your follies. You’ll have me to contend with. Or you can just go to hell.”

She turned back as silence grew. She did not want to hear their replies. It was obvious, the choice they would take. 

And Ella was calling for her anyway. Her children. 

But the days passed, and with them her concerns growing. And when the date finally came, she felt dull and numbed. She had failed again. She would not fail the children. 

Yet, the more she tried, the less it satisfied her. It was not enough, she was not enough. The children never said anything about it to her, but she felt it. She was restless yet not being able to use that energy. She was no Melly to play Yankees and Southerners. She could be affectionate. She could play some games, yet not beneath these walls. She could tell stories. Yet, now, she could not tell her owns. She could not find it. She could not pay attention, for her attention was focused somewhere else, out of these walls she could leave.

Where was Pansy now? Was she cursing her? No, maybe not. Maybe Aren had managed to dissuade her. Maybe it was better like that. 

But why did it all sound like a defeat?

At night, she pondered on it, yet found no answer. By her side, Rhett was far away at the end of that big bed. He was restless like her, turning and turning, groaning and cursing. She felt his gaze on her, at turn glaring and hesitant. 

She turned to him.

“Rhett, are you…”

“Peace, Scarlett. Even strong men have their failing moments. I am very weary, and I need your warmth!” He said it with an exasperated tone, but she saw the longing underneath. It had taken a lot of him to admit it, and she felt her heart squeezing. 

“Rhett!” 

She took him into her arms and laid his head on her chest, her fingers caressing his hair.

“Foolish man,” She said with a trembling voice. “Is it so hard for you to ask this that you have to wriggle and wriggle like a madman, and glare at my back? Am I that much of a monster?”

“My love…” He whispered, and he pressed her harder against him.

Having him like this, she felt a fierce feeling, her love mixing with the powerlessness of not knowing exactly what to do to appease the man she wanted to soothe. 

No, she couldn’t leave. Not like that. She couldn’t do that to him. 

Oh, it would certainly be easier if she was another woman, if their happiness was her happiness! Yet, she was not, and she felt the burden of it more than she ever had before.

“Are you humming?” He said, and she realized she had just been doing it. “Don’t stop. That’s… sweet.”

It was Pa’s song, the one he sang when she had a nightmare as a child. One she thought she had forgotten after all these years of misery. A faint memory, that was coming back, just when she had accepted that she couldn’t continue to ignore the past as she did before. She had looked back, and now there was no turning back.

As the tune ended, she could not find it in her heart to begin another, and silence lingered before them

“Are you still angry with me?”

“No. Not angry, Rhett,” She replied after a time. “Just tired.”

“I love you.”

She said nothing for a time, fighting her selfish feeling of unfairness, that little voice that told her she was his prisoner, and he did not deserve to hear it. Yet, when she saw his expression falling slightly, it disappeared, and she took him into his arms. “… I love you too. You know I do.”

Her voice was thick, almost cracked. It tore at his soul. 

“It’s too high. It’s too high, my love, the price you ask of me,” He whispered urgently into her bosom. “Hate me if you want, but I can’t…”

“How is it different from the one you asked of me many times to pay, and I’m sure without you even thought I could care?” She replied with anguish. “Rough and Ready, not even a year after we married, and after that night… Do you know the second day I thought you were agonizing on the streets? I was worried sick…”

“No, I didn’t know. I was too deep into drunkenness and anxiety,” He sighed. “Does it have to repeat itself?”

“It doesn’t have to. If you trust me enough to return, just like you trusted me to survive on the way to Tara, it doesn’t have to… How is it that much different?”

“Scarlett…”

She was fighting back. Yet, she already felt her will to fight dimmer, the deep languor continuing hindering her mind. She felt afraid by it, yet powerless to stop it. 

“I trust you, Rhett. At least, I try to. I never would have given you my children’s custody and my childhood home if I hadn’t,” She said in a softer tone. “Goodnight, Rhett.”

Wade came to find her during the day, and they read together. Both of her children were very exigent these days, as if they were trying to keep her occupied. As if they wanted to wake her up. Yet she was not sleepy enough not to realize the slip in Wade’s language as he began to compare Rhett’s stories to this one. And the noun he used. 

“Father?” She said, surprised. 

Wade blushed. “Well, Ella calls him daddy, and he calls me son. So I thought… Do you think he’s not going to like it if I do?”

Her heart squeezed. 

“I think you could not please him more.”

“And you?”

She smiled. “I’d say it’s about time, sweetheart.”

He grinned and finally let her. 

Oh, why was she feeling like that? How could she feel like a prisoner, when she was with the ones she loved so much? When she had two wonderful children and a caring husband? Some women would kill to get what she had. Why did she feel like she had lost so much? Why did she want to leave? Why did Rhett’s short absences felt like a betrayal, and his presence so overbearing?

It was during one of these short absences she found Aren in her room. She did not raise her eyebrow at it. The man had always been so slippery that she knew he could find his way anywhere and not get noticed. And he had some maddening tricks too. A true illusionist, though he might not like the title. 

“Where is she?” She said, not even greeting him properly. It was not her priority.

“She’s hiding. She said she was on something big, and you’d know where to find her.”

She blinked.

“What happened?”

“I can’t tell you here. You have to come.”

_I fear if he’s not guided enough, he’ll lose that love of life, and ends up as bitter and weary as his father._

“I can’t. I have my husband, my children here. Can you not help her instead? I’d say you’re better suited.”

He fidgeted, ill-at-ease.

“We had opposing views.”

She pursed her lips.

“Really?” She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, drop the magnolia and moonlight. Or whatever it is.”

“She’s stubborn. She wouldn’t let it go. And when I tried to prevent her, she escaped.”

“She… escaped?” Her brows creased and she scowled. “What is it with men these days? Are you that pleased to have women locked with you always?”

“How can I protect her if she’s always throwing herself in every cause where she thinks there’s an injustice?” He crossed his arms. “For that, I almost wish she was more like you, serving her own interests.”

“Great Balls of Fire, you can go to Halifax! If you can’t trust her, you don’t deserve her at all!”

“It’s your fault!” He said accusingly. “If you hadn’t brought these ideas to her head, she would have been with me! She would have accepted…”

Scarlett’s eyes widened. “Oh, so you were the one…” They narrowed. “And you ask me to help you?”

“Scarlett…”

“Go. Do it your way. It had obviously worked since the beginning. You’ll find no help in me this time.”

And she had doubted her!

She did not deserve that friend.

She did not deserve a lot, in fact. 

Maybe it was better, in fact, that she stayed behind. Maybe it would be better for everyone. 

She gave up the fight for a moment.

And it showed. Even Ella, when night came, seemed to notice it.

“Mama… Are you happy?” She said, with a tiny little voice, like the shrieking of a mouse.

Scarlett did not think of how selfish she was. She had accepted that fact. She did not think at all. 

“Why… yes, I am, Ella. You and your brother make me very happy. You all make me very happy.”

Yet it did not satisfy Rhett when the children were out of sight, safe in their beds.

“You’re preoccupied, Scarlett. What is it?”

A flicker of fight. A hope.

She raised an eyebrow, tempted to say ‘Isn’t it obvious?’. Yet, she couldn’t.. She knew if she sent out such a bitter remark, they would argue, and nothing would be solved. If she was honest with herself, it was not about staying with Rhett and the children, nor about the trick he had played on her. She found she had forgiven him already, with a facility that astonished her, the excuses coming easily and the burden on her shoulders growing like a difficult child, kicking and blaming.

He lowered his head, his fists clenching at his side.

“You don’t want to share your thoughts anymore with me, do you? I’ve broken that…”

“Rhett… no. I…”

She inhaled sharply to give herself courage, and told him. She watched him closely as he listened to her and thought about it. 

“And what is disturbing you, darling? Is it because you are vexed he said you’re serving your own interests?”

He winced, and was about to change his phrasing, when she put her hand on his and squeezed it.

“No. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from you is that it is useless to deny the truth,” She said. “I guess I’m… a bit worried.”

He patted her hand two times, then, after a pause, kissed it. 

“Your… friend is an adult, Scarlett. She’d find her way out of this.”

She knew he was trying to reassure her. It was the easy thing to say, the one thing a parent would say to a child about a pet: “He’ll come back, he’s a good boy”. And anyway even on the other side, it did not reflect well on her.

She said nothing about it. It stayed on her mind, her eyes gazing into the distance. Rhett squeezed her hand, his brow creasing.

“If you want, I can try to find her.”

She saw it was hard for him to suggest it, and she tried to smile.

“No. You’re right. I have to believe she’s alright. After all… Aren did say she’s hiding. It would not do to get her out that hiding place.”

She looked away and tried to tell herself it was the right choice. What did she think she was, anyway? She was but a woman, and she thought she could resolve it on her own? Foolish, so very foolish…

“Come here, Scarlett,” He said, sighing. 

She nestled into his embrace, feeling his kiss and soothing caress on her hair.

“You know I love you, don’t you?”

She nodded.

“Just say the words, Scarlett. You know I can’t refuse you.”

She knew it. Yet, she knew there were things she could not ask. These were words, and words were winds. She was in his arms now, and it was enough. It had to be enough.

For another time, she wished she was another woman, satisfied at being a wife and a mother, satisfied in a life indoors, waiting for the husband to return. 

She ignored the part of her that asked about freedom and closed her eyes. She felt dumb for a moment, but perhaps it was for the best. She had to hold on to him, hold on to her children. It would be enough. It had to be.

“Do you think it will change?” She said suddenly.

“What will change, Scarlett?”

“Your love for me. Oh, I know you love me now. But do you think there won’t be a day when you won’t turn away, your love having worn out?”

He sighed and patted her hand. “Scarlett… I can’t promise you I will never turn away some days, that there would never be any quarrels between us again. This is not in my nature, and it is not in yours too. Yet, what I can always say is that I will always return to you,” He looked at her, and there was so much love in it it broke her heart. “The thing is, my dear, it wasn’t my love for you that was broken. It was me. I needed to find my way back. And somehow, you were here, and you showed me the way. You, with your challenges, your story, and the beautiful way you made me question the world around me when I felt so sure of everything. You’ve lightened up a way, and I followed it. And now I’m back to you, and I always will. And we’d be together, like we should have since the beginning.”

The flicker died out, like a weary candle.

“Yes, Rhett.”

How could she say otherwise when he said such words? It was what she wanted to hear from the beginning. 

Yet why did she want to cry?

The night was dreamless for her, a blink in the darkness, and it broke when she felt Rhett’s agitation by her side. 

He was having a nightmare. 

She shook him lightly, caressed his cheek. 

“I’m here. Rhett, I’m here…”

He opened his eyes, finally, and the darkness was not so overbearing at that moment. 

“Scarlett….” He said her name with the thirst of a broken man.

She opened her arms to him, automatically peppering kisses on his face to put the anguish away, yet it had already spread on herself already. It was a fever that was taking them both. They could not put it into words, yet their bodies told it all the same as he pressed her against him and kissed her back. 

“I can’t possess you without getting possessed by you, isn’t it?” He said suddenly. “And if I do… you’ll lose what I loved you first for…”

She did not answer. She did not know the answer to that. She could only kiss him and try to put his anguish away.

By the morning, he was not here to answer anyway.

And by the morning, Todd Smith was pressed out of the house, protesting eagerly. One of the two men, that she had not bothered to learn the names of, barred his way.

“Mr. Butler said not to let him in.” He justified when he saw her. 

A surge of anger in a teapot. 

“I am Mrs. Butler. You can watch if you want, but this man is my friend, and he will enter. And if you don’t like it, I’ll tell him how you tried to sneak in and see me in my shimmy!”

It seemed to work as he blushed and turned back. Yet he stayed close.

“What a ninny…” She could not help but reflect. Yet it lacked her usual spirit. 

She nodded towards Todd, who looked at her strangely, before handing her a wrapped object. 

She did not even have to guess the other man in the room’s reaction when she took the wrapping of, revealing some sort of dagger. She put a stop to it.

“Patrick told me to give you this,” Todd justified, eyeing at the side suspiciously.

“A sword?” She raised an eyebrow.

He smiled.

“That’s a dirk. A Scottish dirk. He told me in his country, there was an oath to pledge to a liege lord.”

“I’m not sure I can accept that. I’m not a Scot, and I’m no liege lord,” She tried to laugh it off.

“He said it has nothing to do with origins and sex. It has to do with values that inspire the one who pledges, with admiration and loyalty.”

He looked at the French windows, the tantalizing green she saw everyday without being able to feel it.

“It is a good day. Calm, auspicious. The tides are right, it is said. Did you read the newspaper? It is said there’s a woman that managed to break her chains and live, a free woman. A fascinating story. Did you read about it?”

“I did not,” She said. 

“You should. Freedom is such a precious thing, that should be caught if the opportunity arises.”

He’s offering me to escape, she realized. 

She paused, considered. A faltering, a fear. 

She could not. She wanted it, but she could not. She would not fail her family again. She would not be selfish again.

“We all are chained to one another, wanting to break free,” She replied softly, and the voice did not seem like hers, but like her mother’s. “Yet… There are chains, so essential, that should never be broken, for they became part of ourselves. And if it breaks… Then, it destroys more than it frees. Then… maybe freedom is not the option.”

He looked at her a long time, considering this. His thumbs danced around one another. 

“So… Guinevere was not in love with Lancelot, after all.”

She raised her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Todd. But I think Lancelot was not in love with Guinevere as well.”

“Perhaps,” He admitted, and she almost felt offended by the easiness in which he said it. She would have expected some protestation at least. “But… can we still be friends?”

“I don’t see why not.”

She let him go without regret. She did not have enough in her to regret anything anyway. She had a loving husband, and wonderful children, and it had to be enough. 

But when said husband came back from whatever venture he had, she found him changed, and unnervingly watchful.

He was looking at her speculatively, and she did not know what to make of it. It wasn’t out of love, though love was not absent from his gaze. He seemed in conflict, she did not quite know between what kind of things. Actually, she did not dare to think of it. All that mattered was that it brought him pain, and she could not bear it. 

When the children went to sleep, she sat quietly at his side, and put her hand on his. He squeezed it, his eyes snapping back to her, and she smiled at him tentatively. Her heart thumped slowly as he raised it to his lips, his lids shutting down harshly, an aching frown wrinkling his forehead. He pressed her palm on his cheek, rubbing it softly. She felt the hint of his mustache tickling her, the warmth of his mouth as he laid another kiss on her palm, before sliding it at the side of his neck. 

He let it go, and her hand fell on his thigh.

“We’ve never been truly on the same page, have we?” He said finally.

She stiffened.

“What do you mean?”

“I am mad with love with you and want to commit, you don’t love me, and you don’t want to marry. I want to leave, you want me to stay. You want to leave, and I can’t bear to let you.”

“That’s not all true, I told you. I don’t want to leave. But I feel… “She shook her head. It did not matter if she tried to explain it or not the way it kept nagging at her, these uncertainties from outside, these worries for the ones she came to attach herself to, worry for her own and for herself, that staying here with the children did not appease. She had chosen to stay, and she would. Rhett and the children needed her. She had been selfish for too long, and maybe it was a rest of that selfishness that made her believe she could be the one to resolve it. “I… didn’t want to love you. Oh, I wanted you to love me, but loving you was another matter. Loving you was… like entering a new country, with a new language. I was afraid I’d get lost in you, without even leaving a mark on you.”

“So, it had mostly been a battle for power, then?” He said. “We’ve been fighting each other for so long we did not know how to stop.”

She shrugged, tried to smile. Yet it tore at her cheeks.

“Oh, I could never win against you.”

“And I could never win against you. Never truly.”

Her shoulders fell.

“It certainly looked like you did.”

“Having the last word does not mean to win.”

“Maybe.” She said, humoring him. Her heart jumped with a sudden apprehension, and she tried to shake it off. Certainly, he did not think of…? “I admire you, you know. I am proud to be the woman of a strong, cunning man like you. I love that you can be so loving, so fun. I love that you’re hard as nails and ruthless, and that you don’t mind, even love that I am like that too. I love that you’re my best friend, my lover, and I can be myself with you, and count on you when it comes to our family. You’ve always seen what needed to be done, always knew how to take advantage of every situation.”

His hand squeezed hers. 

“Not especially when it comes to you, love.”

“And how does it matter?” She shrugged. “People can be blind or stupid when it comes to love… Me first.”

“We’ve both been it,” He smiled. “I am proud to be yours too. You are a brave, incredible woman, Scarlett.”

Why did this sound like a goodbye? Scarlett thought, distraught. Why, why, why…

“You surprised me, you know,” He continued. “I knew you were strong, and clever. Yet, it takes some far-sightedness and imagination to do the things that you did, a lot more than I credited you for.”

“I was not alone,” She said urgently.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I doubt members of your little group would have thought of that. Even your little Pansy, who says many things, but I doubt she would bear to do them.”

She sighed, laying her head on his chest, closing her eyes to the sound of his heart. That was a certainty. She had to hold on to this.

“Each time I was confronted do a decision, I asked myself: ‘what would Rhett do at my place? What opportunity would he see and seize?’” She said softly. “I was never truly alone in the decision-making. You were always there.”

He sighed, and she felt him lean on her.

“As much as I am flattered you think so, you _were_ alone in that. I took no part in your scheming.” He chuckled. “Accept these praises, Scarlett. You would have done so without hesitation before.”

“I’m not sure they are praises. Especially when I’m certain you don’t like these decisions I made.”

“You learned a lot. No, I don’t like it. I don’t like the idea of you in a perilous situation, where I can do nothing about it. I don’t like the idea of you not needing me, and making a life without me. I don’t like the idea of being left behind in the dark, with nothing to tell me what you’re doing immediately, and if you are safe and sound.”

“So do I.” 

“Yet, it is something that has to be done, isn’t it?” 

She shook her head, not wanting to think of its meaning.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re saying.”

“You do. Yet you don’t want me to say it. And I know I should do it, that it is the right choice, for the both of us… yet, it’s too hard for me to say. All I can say is that I love you, so damn much. I’m… I’m sorry, darling, I can’t say it. Not now.”

“Then don’t.” She said, raising her head, her heart on her eyes. “Hold me, Rhett.”

And he did. 

He loved her fiercely that night, as if he was about to leave forever and wanted to carve her body into memory. It unsettled her and she held on to him just the same. During this moment, she was herself again, and everything she had repressed came out. Oh, that was unfair, she thought. He’s going to leave, and I’ll be all alone, with the children, uncertain and tied to one place, powerless to know his whereabouts, powerless to know what is happening around, to my friends, to my enemies. 

One thing was sure, they were going to part soon, and experience had always told her he would be the one to leave. 

Don’t go, she wanted to say. Don’t leave me. I’ve renounced to my freedom for you and the children, and you said you wanted us to be together. Don’t leave me…

By the morning, he asked her to come with him for a walk, and the anxiety came back tenfold, especially when the children hugged her, Ella crying and almost not letting her go. Yet Wade was the one to take her back and soothe her. 

Scarlett did not say anything. Why this sudden walk? What was going to happen? Why now? Why this sudden liberty after so many days indoors?

Oh, why wasn’t he even looking at her?

She did not dare to ask, yet her mind was beginning to get filled again by unanswered questions. He had awakened her again, and she cursed him for it. Yet she kept silent, waiting anxiously for the resolution.

Until she found out he had led her to the port, and she saw the silhouettes of Todd and Patrick waiting for her.

“Rhett…” She said, her voice getting lost in her throat. 

Was it one of his games? One of his tests?

Oh, that was cruel, so cruel. 

“Go.” He replied quietly.

She froze, blinked, turned toward her husband with disbelieving eyes. 

“What?”

He sighed, before finally turning to her. 

“You’re not going to make it easy for me, are you?” He said, yet there was fondness in his eyes as he put his warm hands on her shoulders. “I can see it in your eyes, you will not be at peace until you do this, crazy as it seems. And if you give it up, you will lose that spirit that I love so much in you… I saw how hard you tried, and it makes me love you even more, knowing you would sacrifice yourself for us. Yet, I should never have asked you this, I realize. I would not tolerate you to ask me this, and yet, for me, for the children, you did this. I wish I could fight at your place, lay all your burdens on my back instead. But you wouldn’t want that, would you? It had never worked like that,” Her eyes widened as he cupped her face with a tenderness that left her shaking. Her lids fluttered. “I’ll take care of the children for you. You… were right when you said there were doors that could be opened to you in that state. Others can do with me, and I’ll make sure some more will open as well. Whatever power I lack, I’ll get it. I’ll help you whenever I can. Send you information if I find another way. We’ll be together in this, though apart we may be.”

She took a step back, blinked, reflecting on it. She looked at him, and saw the truth in his eyes. 

Her heart leaped. 

There was trust in them. Trust and respect.

“You in the bright light and me in the shadows, right?” She grinned, his words finally registering in her mind and the thrill taking over her like ants on her cold body.

“Well, we do tend to be complementary,” He could not help but grin back. He kissed her quickly. Yet, his jaws shook violently for a moment and the smile did not last. He caressed her cheek, looking at her longingly. “Just promise me. Report at least once every two weeks. I’m sure you can find a way through that story of yours. Meet me at least once a month. I say _at least_. Give me hints to know where you are, what you’re doing and what you need. I’ll sent replies in the same way. There might be things I will ask of you, but I hope I will not have to. Be wary of what you drink and eat, but don’t forget to, you damn woman,” She chuckled and he smiled. “And Scarlett… Come back as soon as you can. Remember you have a husband and children who love you and will miss you. Terribly.”

She jumped into his arms with a loving cry.

“Oh, Rhett! Best of husbands, king of men and fathers!”

He laughed quietly, tenderly.

“Had I known letting you go would provoke such caresses to my ego, I would have done so earlier…” He looked at her, stopped, then shook his head. “No, don’t ever think about it. Once is already too much to bear.”

“Oh, Rhett!” She cried, her arms leaving his shoulders so that she could take his hands in hers and kiss them fervently. “I’ll come back! I will!”

“I know you will. I’m willing to bet my life on it,” He said, and she saw it was true. It was true! “And I’ll make sure there’s a tomorrow for us, so that when you do, you will not have to hide. For that you will have to trust me as well.”

He turned towards the group. 

“If she decides to do something stupid, bring her back to me. By the hair if you must, and kicking. And if she dares forget to send news about her whereabouts, do so immediately. If something ever happens to her… You best believe even leaving the country will not be enough.”

“Oh, Rhett!” She cried once again, overcome. “I love you so!”

His voice broke.

“You better. Go, now. Else, I won’t be able to… Oh, come here, you damn woman…”

He took her into his arms. and she let out tears of love, a strange mixture between sorrow and joy she could not really explain with words. 

“You can give up anytime, honey,” He whispered. “Just say the words, and I get rid of them.”

“Rhett!” She giggled as she wiped her tears away.

He shrugged good-naturedly. 

“Alright, alright, I had to try,” He winked and kissed her on the forehead a long time. “But the offer still stands. Anytime. Anywhere…” He sighed, finally taking a step back. “Goodbye, my love. Goodbye…”

He let her go and she waved one last time at him, before following the others. She turned back one last time and met his eyes once again. She sent him a confident smile and a kiss, and he took it all. 

She was Scarlett, and he was Rhett, and their love could survive anything. United, they could conquer it all. 

_Till next time, my love…_ She thought. _Till next time…_


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and a merry (belated) Christmas to you all! Thank you for all the supports, the comments, you all had made me feel very spoiled this year.
> 
> This week had been quite busy at work, but writing the story was quite a welcomed break between the tasks. It is my gift to you, and I hope you will like it.
> 
> Happy holidays, everyone, and a happy new year if I'm not able to communicate with you sooner!

Life is a long travel home in an overcrowded carriage, Rosemary Butler thought, each person wanting to make their voice heard. You try to understand what is going on, but there is always this one voice that is heard more easily, and then another, but not everyone at the same time. Sometimes, some voices are never heard and left lingering in a silent corner. Sometimes they come back with a new strength. Yet, it is better to be in that carriage than to be left on the road, on your own with that anxiety of never being able to go where you belonged. 

She had waited a long time for this carriage and now it was there, with a beautiful white mantle.

A winter marriage. That was what she had always dreamed of. The dream of a little girl, wanting to get away from a difficult family situation, between a father and a brother, between two brothers, with a mother that decided not to fight and stay on the backside, watching as everyone climbed in. 

She knew how she looked, on that fateful day. A precious little doll, with clear blue eyes and blonde locks. A pretty picture, one that certainly was pleasing, especially with her handsome groom, his reddish hair shining with the winter sun.

Besides her name, nothing in appearance could ever link her to her infamous brother. Nothing quite harsh, nor brutal. Yet, it was something she had learned she could not avoid. She may trade the name of Butler for Favell, but she would never completely erase her family ties. 

Yet, that did not mean she did not love her brothers. She was a dutiful sister, and a dutiful daughter, no one could ever say otherwise. She may prefer Ross, for he was closer to her in interests and nature, but that did not mean she had no appreciation for her older brother Rhett. Though it had been difficult with Father and him, for many years, and she would have liked it to be different. She had born it as a lady as her father refused Rhett’s help over and over, and his fits of rage when it was found out Mother and she had found a way to enter in contact with him. She had tried to conciliate them, as a lady would. Yet, it was not to be. 

She had cried at Father’s death as she should. It had not changed her life though. Oh, they could eat again more profusely, and not depend on the help of Eulalie and Pauline, Mother’s friends. But there was still the taint on the family’s name, which meant one could pity them, but not really approve of them completely.

She felt the unfairness of it all keenly, yet she felt it was unfair to blame it all on Rhett. It was not his fault if the world seemed to focus on his things rather than to mind their own.

She had tried to love Mother’s friends and comfort them. Yet, she had to admit with anguish she was not always very patient with them, especially when they talked and talked about their niece’s demise. She was afraid to say there was one time when she thought they cried more about the loss of her money than hers, and that made her sad. She had never met Scarlett, but she had learned through Mother it was her that gave them the help that allowed them to survive. All two families were assisted by one woman. In her heart, there was a little admiration. She seemed to be one of these women in these tales, powerful and strange, unreachable. 

Rosemary had heard so many things about her brother Rhett and Scarlett. Such terrible things, but she did not dare to believe them. And anyway, she had to be charitable with everyone, no matter what their past was. He had been so good to them, after all. He had been so charming. Certainly, the tales were only that. But no matter what, she would never ask. She would not want him to be sad, or even angry about her prying. She had already seen him in Charleston, sad and angry, even before his wife’s death. 

Most certainly, he had loved her deeply, that was obvious. Yet, Rosemary could not help but wonder… could such a terrific woman love? In her inexperienced mind, she had the image of an amazon, with an independence of mind and a strength that intimidated her as much as it fascinated her. Yet, no amazon really loved. They seemed to be well on their own, proud, and able to do anything. Could she ever allow someone to love them? The tales never actually said it.

Thankfully, hers and John’s love was not like that. It was soft and tender, and quiet. She was so thankful to have been chosen by him. He was not only handsome in her eyes, despite maybe a tendency to bulkiness that maybe would come with time. He was firm and cheerful, and not playing around as the other young men could do. He loved her, he really did, and he said it did not matter what family name she had, how many brothers she had, he wanted to marry her anyway.

He was there now, that fascinating brother of hers, and as always there was this shadow on his face, that she attributed to his mourning. 

Oh, if only she could do anything to lift it! At least a little before she took the ship to London? 

She wished him another love, perhaps one like Solene and Robert’s now that they were reunited. Oh, she knew it was foolish, a tale for children as some men said. No literary classic, and sometimes it was downright silly, yet there was something in it, a charm that enchanted her, and some references that made it look like a mystery to uncover. Especially now with the recent one. She could not really pinpoint what made her think so, but it seemed some extracts of the story had a different style, making it look like some dialogue between two persons. She felt a guilty pleasure in reading it and was always disappointed when she missed an update.

The fact that one of the protagonists looked a little like her brother was quite a factor as well. She could imagine herself understanding him a little better. 

When he went to greet her, she could not help it as she felt his big, strong hands shaking her owns.

“You need to marry again, brother.”

She saw the hint of teeth between his red lips. 

“I’m thinking about it.”

She felt bold enough to continue.

“I hope you don’t think bad of me to think so, but…” She blushed, flustered in her attempt, and the dumbfounded expression on his face. “This time, I hope it will be a woman that would not be so busy with work that she would not take care of you. You deserve the best.”

He seemed to ponder it, and she felt so very silly. She saw him so little; she should not have said it. Yet, he smiled kindly at her and put a hand on her cheek, and she felt her heart burst.

“Oh, Rosemary, you’re so innocent and sweet. I’ve known a woman like that once. You will not have her fate, thank God. I know you mean well, but you know nothing about it, and I think it’s better like that. Just know that I love you, and soon, I’ll be happy. That’s all you need to know,” He patted her head, kissed her forehead in blessing, then added. “Your husband might not be a duke, but I must admit he’s one man I can respect. I wish you all the happiness possible.”

She felt tears pricking at her eyes. It was more than she had wished for. She had his blessing.

“Thank you…”

“Rosemary?”

John was calling. Her heart leaped, and she threw one hesitant glance at Rhett, who smiled encouragingly at her, and gestured her to follow.

Yes, finally her life was beginning. John was waiting. Now their life would start.

She refrained from running towards him, but it seemed her blush and the eagerness in her eyes betrayed her. John looked at her with fond eyes, his lips ready for a laughter.

She smiled sweetly as he reached out for her and helped her in the carriage.

…

… _What a delight it was, to be finally reunited. What a delight to discover, that Robert had half a heart as well, like her, and that together, the two halves joined in one. Two halves that now beat as one, no misunderstanding between them that could build a wall between them._

_Oh, Solene had felt conflicted at first, remembering her own poor mother, remembering their shared past. Yet, he told her the truth: though he had enjoyed the notoriety of the event, he had taken no part in it. Her mother’s lover had wrecked the ship himself, sunk with a heart that should never have been given to someone who did not intend on taking care of it. She had felt sorry for her mother, but she had her own life to live now, their own children to find. Robert was the one that had opened her eyes, and now her half heart was for him, just like his was for her. And they would not be broken again. It was something they owed to their missing daughter, the one they had lost in the way._

_The peacock was still bothering them, but they would find a way to get rid of it. She just knew it._

_She thought of the children and sent them her love. She would see them soon._

_But for now, she had her own adventures to live_ …

…

Life was a struggle, and Sam O’Hara had known it all his life. He had known famine, and the anger of seeing his country slowly surrendering to the enemy, its culture mocked and defiled. Even its language seemed like something prohibited. 

He would never be safe as long as his country would not be liberated. And for this goal, he was ready for everything. God would understand, he thought. 

So, when he recognized his cousin, Scarlett O’Hara, dressed as a gypsy on the road to Savannah, an idea came to his mind. She was a pretty woman, and she had the cunnings of the O’Hara. He had seen her when she was a little girl, and then when she was the widow Hamilton. She knew the rules of the South better than him, and her current situation made her someone very expandable. She was believed dead after all, a woman on the run all alone and thus very much vulnerable. 

Unfortunately, she was not quite as supportive and understanding as he thought she would be. She did open some doors for him, and he had to admit she improved and added to some of his plans. Yet, it was clear she felt no sense of debt, no sense of belonging to that dear Eire, the land that had been stolen from them. He had also very much the suspicion she got money from it. Certainly, a taint of the fickle French blood in her veins. 

Yet, he needed her still, he could see that. She knew how to make herself very much necessary, and then there were these people she had added in the schemes, that proved very valuable, and very much bond to her.

Yet, that did not mean he enjoyed it, to be dependent on such a woman who he felt could easily disappear into the nature just to spite him. She did not even seem to remember his name! Cousin O’Hara, she would call him, dismissing him with that slow gesture he had seen on Southern ladies.

He was trying to rant a little more about this, an exercise that he felt would one day point another solution to his problems, but then there was this man that had sat next to him on that bench as he looked at the ship sailing away, with the precious weapons that would further the Cause. A man that would not stop to talk on and on about his woman, so insistent that he felt like he should reply, by simple politeness.

“This is the price of having an extraordinary woman by one’s side…”

Why the hell was this man talking on and on about his wife? To a stranger, nonetheless? 

“Yet, my wife tends to be quite disparate in her things. I figured you and I could find a way to make her focus on what is more important. We do agree on what is more important, I believe?”

Sam O’Hara blinked. How was that any business of him?

And why was he feeling like he was being laughed at?

“You really don’t know anything about me, do you?” The man’s dark eyes twinkled, his voice drawling with that irritating accent of Charleston. “You disappoint me, Mister O’Hara. I thought you had a better ear than that. Or maybe it is a family trait, not to hear what seems to be of no interest at first sight?”

Sam blanched. 

“Oh, now you remember,” Rhett Butler said, pleased. “Now, I believe we can talk.”

…

_… A series of adventures awaited them, indeed. Robert knew of it. He rather liked it, yet he preferred it much better with his woman by his side, for then it held no meaning for him anymore if she wasn’t there to share it. Two halves needed to be together, after all, and he intended to make sure she never forgets it. Their time apart, without memories, had been a lot to bear on that poor pirate._

_He had to find a home for them, so that they could rest a little. Living on a ship was after all not very comfortable, and maybe it was better to start anew to build on a new ground. Yet, what did his beloved want? He wanted her to tell him about it, for he wanted to give her everything. She only had to ask._

_And then, there was another thing he wanted to tell her._

_One night, Robert turned to Solene, put his arms around her and told her a story._

_“There was once a merchant, living in a city between the storming sea and the invading forest. A merchant without scruples, that benefitted a lot from the main family in place. He benefitted also from their losses when a hurricane destroyed their propriety. But then, seeing there was money to be made from the invading forest, he asked for my help and connections. Yet, he failed to pay. So, I asked myself, why wouldn’t I send my pretty vixen, that is my accomplice of ever, to pester him a little and get some diamonds out of him? Maybe she could slip in like a ghost and haunt him so he would remember his debt?...”_

…

Life is a theater play, and Richard realized it when he met the infamous Rhett Butler. For so long, he had been in front of the curtains, wondering if when it was lifted, he would find out if he was a spectator or an actor. 

And then Rhett Butler entered the scene, and the play began. 

Oh, Richard looked up to him as a mentor, like a big brother. He was exactly what he wanted to be: strong, exciting, and adventurous. He wanted a woman, he got her, and when he took him under his wing, Richard felt exhilarated, forgetting the misgivings of his family.

He wanted so much to be approved by that man, wanted so much to be like him. So, he followed him to each party, each errancy around the cities. He drank when he drank, swore when he swore. And when someone insulted Rhett, he defended him, and made sure the man was not seen again. That was what it meant, to have the back of its mentor after all, and Rhett would certainly have been grateful if he had known it.

And then, Richard met Cassandra. A beautiful woman, mysterious and charming, soft-spoken and beguiling. She had him from the first words, the first timid raise of the lids. 

He knew Rhett did not like her. He said there was something false in her. That her manners were the same with every other man. He was just jealous, Richard decided, for he had no woman of his own. That was the only thing he was superior to Rhett, and he relished in it. And it felt gratifying to see how much she was desired by the other men. 

At least at the beginning. Then, Rhett’s words festered his love, and the more he was afraid, the more he made sure Cassandra was close to him. How could she complain? If she loved him, couldn’t she accept to stay with him, always? To not leave the room without him? Couldn’t she see it was a sign of his love, that he worried about her, and refused to see her pestered by others?

Of course, there was this accident with the kitten. And maybe a few others. He did not quite remember. Damn Rhett for making him drink so. Damn Rhett for corrupting his mind. Damn him for then stealing his woman and sending her after to a backstreet abortionist, where she met her end. 

He hated him. He loved him. He almost had him once, during that civil war. He had given hints to the Yankees about the Confederate money, a tale he had heard in London. Yet he had not managed to go all the way. On the contrary, he helped to send some letters written by Rhett, so that he could be released earlier.

What a fool he had been. But not anymore. 

Now, it was him that would steal his woman, and his lands. His plans had not worked as he had intended at first, but the obstacles made it more exciting. Fortunately, he had allies like Adrian, though he seemed more distant these days. Certainly, he would not be angry at that little trick with the bottles? After all, only a whore had died in the process. It was just a game.

More importantly, he had already stolen Scarlett. She was his, and she soon would be that officially. Soon, the play would end, and he would prove to be the victor, for once. 

Oh, Scarlett… A fascinating woman, just like his Cassandra had been. A victim, like him, of Rhett’s schemes and ploys. A victim though that challenged him, making him feel more alive he had felt in years. 

How thrilling of her to provide him with such amusement! Cassandra would have done the same, actually, and he felt addicted to the sensation of being the hunter, a place of power he relished. 

And now he was there, on her trail. But that did not mean he could not go and try to disturb other hunters as well. Even if they were unaware of the current chase. 

“Hello, Rhett.” Richard said cheerfully as he sat next to him in the theater of Myrtle Beach, a fortnight before Christmas.

The man nodded towards him as he would have any other. 

“Richard.”

“Fancy meeting you there.” Richard said, his gaze on the red velvet of the chair. Red like his anger.

“A pleasant encounter, indeed.”

Richard smirked.

“Naturally. Yet not that surprising. We have the same love for the theater, after all.”

Rhett, with that infuriating pleasant politeness, continued the conversation, and it drove Richard mad. How could he talk like that, as if nothing happened? As if he wasn’t about to lose it all?

Oh, but he did not know, no, he did not know…

“Do you remember, Rhett, when we went to the theater together?” He said suddenly with a laugh that sounded quite nervous and too eager to his shame. “You laughed at me when I said I felt like a character in the background of a play. You told me that it was up to me to be more than that.”

“And I kept that opinion,” Rhett smiled. 

“Yet, it had never been so, had it?” Richard continued bitterly.

Rhett said nothing. Richard shrugged. 

“I figured if I can be the hero, maybe I have to be a villain. If there’s one thing that I’ve learned from you, is that we always are villains in another’s story.”

“Oh, I knew someone who’d be still a hero in everyone’s story.” 

“Then, it must be a very boring person. No flaw at all, no enemy it can’t be relatable.”

“Perhaps. Sometimes it is considered as a flaw by itself.”

Rhett chuckled, yet his eyes stayed on the play, unnervingly imperturbable.

“I have something you have not,” Richard could not help but say, eager for Rhett’s reaction.

Rhett’s hand clenched in his pocket, as if grasping for something he could not see. A thrill of excitation came to the English lord. Finally, something that could prove he was affecting him!

“Are you going to kill me?”

He said nothing for a while, and there was nothing to see in that dark, frustratingly blank face.

“No. I don’t particularly like the idea of going to jails.”

Oh, but he would be. Or dead. Dead was good too. But not before he saw the end of the play, with the pretty woman choosing the background character instead of the main one. And then, the curtain would fall again, and the play would end.

Yes, Scarlett was the prize and the resolution of the story. She said all the right things, did all the right things. She even provided adventure for him, adventure with all the twisted melodrama that could be found in these plays he was so fond of. 

How could she not be in love with him? He had seen love in her eyes, and he had seen truth in it. She had believed in what she had said.

For one moment, he wondered if he loved her for the prize she represented or for herself. Yet, he shrugged that question away. It did not matter. He will have her sooner or later.

It was only right. It was a fair end for the play.

…

… _“… the vixen accomplished her mission with great success, if I might say, and she delivered to that dear beloved pirate of hers more than a bag of diamonds. He would see that when they would see each other again. She was disappointed though to have missed the little spectacle that was offered after.”_

_Solene, after hearing that story, had the nagging feeling the pirate had played a trick on the poor vixen, so that she could get closer to him and he would be able to watch over her._

_Well, yes, actually she did not mind. If she was being honest with herself, she rather agreed to it._

_Oh, yes, she wanted a home with her beloved pirate. The children would not be able to bear all these outward and return adventures. Yet, she remembered the mistakes of the past. Certainly, they could create something that would please them both?_

…

Pansy never had time to ponder what life was. She never had any idle hours to think about it, and the few minutes she had, she could not focus on that kind of questions that were more fitting for privileged old men dying of boredom in their castles in her opinion. How could she when around her, so many people were suffering; hers, and others? How could she when she saw most people did not see them, and when she had no way to help?

Already, when she was little, Pork used to tell the stories of slaves that were beaten, abused, and worked to death in plantations. Of slaves that managed to hijack the ships they were imprisoned in to get their freedoms and lands back, yet that ended drown in the sea, and those who would try to escape and were found. 

She knew he was trying to say Tara was a plantation they were lucky to live in, with an owner that knew nothing about how most slaves were treated and would not have believed it, and a mistress that was soft-spoken and treated them like children. Not like these sugar plantations in Louisiana and Mississippi. An ideal place where they could be more than what was expected of them. Yet, she could not see it like that. She knew it did not have to be like that. She would not be like Pork, Mammy and the others, thankful for their chains and living through the lives of others. 

So, when the war began and Aren would not come, she escaped and tried to find her way on her own. 

For a long time, she had despised people like Scarlett, living with such stubborn unawareness of what was happening around them. As a child, she had been one mischievous little thing, that even urged Pansy to play sometimes, making her almost forget she had to work too, and that had its moments of surprising generosity and tolerance. But as a girl! What a brat, barely even looking at her and the others, just like the other ladies’ daughters. 

Such careless people, with so much power, that could do good! These were people that would never go angry and would never have any problem that would not be taken care of by their men!

It infuriated her to be so powerless when others that had it made nothing of it.

When she heard of what was happening to Tara after the war, she did not believe it. Women like Scarlett were ornamental mostly when they came of age, and she shrugged it off when she heard she was considered as the head of the house. 

Yet, the news arrived, and there was no denying this. The one she had thought so little of was more than that.

Thus, why when she heard a mammy sought for the children of the Butler family, she applied and was accepted. 

She needed the money anyway. And it had the advantage of providing her with a cover that could be useful if ever she had the means and the envy to do something. 

However, even if the pay was more than generous, it was not enough, not if she decided to commit. 

And then there was the life, the strange life of Rhett and Scarlett, and these children she came to care for deeply. A lonely life, those of people making mistakes after mistakes, cruel and inconsequential with others, one overgrown woman and one complicated man with so many people bound to them. She bore with good grace the suspicion of Mammy, who was very protective of her masters and remembered Pansy did not stay during the war. 

And like that, she lived with them, in the shadows. She saw their little cruelties, their missteps and misfortunes, and made her own opinion about it. And when little Bonnie died, it was settled.

She was almost thankful when Mr. Butler left, for with him gone, and Mammy as well, for then she was freer in her movements. 

Yet, Scarlett had awakened. And in her, Pansy found with surprise a friend, a sister even, someone that would listen to her, would question and bear being questioned. Oh, of course, there were still some slips, some signs Scarlett was not even aware of. Yet, she had grown attached, and grown even protective of her. To her own surprise.

She was not even jealous of the decent success of her little story. After all, she realized what made it enjoyable for others was that they could pick the things they liked and ignored those they did not, in order to make their own interpretations of it. 

All the things Scarlett could become, all the things she could do… Pansy dreamed of doing it, yet how could she? _Or_ could she?

The idea was terrifying even for someone like her. Especially when it meant the chains had not been in the situation alone, but also in her mind. It was a feeling that was amplified when she met Aren again. 

She knew from the beginning he was different. He was a survivor of one of these shipwrecks, where many slaves and merchants had lost their lives. He had not been born like her to a plantation. He had barely lived a few years in it, before running away. He did not understand completely that tendencies to explanations to slavery that was spreading like a disease in the black population, and the fear she had of beginning to think like it, and to forget all the injustices it had brought.

He had told her of the country of his birth. She had heard his longing and wished she had felt the same. Yet, even if there was an innate curiosity for it, and a sense of unfairness, she could not entirely feel attached to it, to her own guilt. Home for her was in America, in Georgia. Despite everything she had seen, she had always been there, it was the earth she had walked on and she knew everything about it. There was a conflict in her, a fear for disappointment. For what if Africa was not like what she hoped for? Why did it feel like a betrayal to America to even think of it? 

She felt angry for these people that had stolen hers from their countries, and shaped them so much according to their whims that generations by generations, they would forget all the little things they knew, their cultures and traditions, their original religions, and even that belonging to the original earth. 

That was why she wanted to fight. Try at least to change some mentalities. After all, if even Scarlett O’Hara could begin to open her eyes to it, certainly others could do the same?

It was not a veil like she had thought at first, no. A veil could be shattered to pieces to reveal the truth. No, it was more like tainted glasses. When someone would try to take them away, the ones who had it seemed lost, angry, and sad. Some would even refuse to see, and would stay on their own, refusing any dialogue. 

Well, no matter what, every cause needed support, especially money, and if she had once been hesitant about Scarlett's scheme to get some out of the Fenian cause, she had to admit it was helpful to subsist.

But it was all so very frustrating.

Sat on the bench of the station in Jonesboro on Christmas day, she sighed. At least, Rhett Butler, that had sat with her as soon as he had noticed her, decided to talk.

She wondered if it had been a tentative of intimidation, or if he had genuinely been hesitant to ask her.

“She’s not coming home yet, is she?”

“She can’t. She’s being watched too closely now.”

Normally, Pansy did not like to lie. But this time, she took pleasure in it. It was supposed to be a surprise but seeing Rhett Butler’s face fall slightly at the new was strangely satisfying.

Scarlett had suggested her to come as well for supper, yet Tara had not the same significance for her. She needed to get away from that place where she had been a slave. 

And then, many things could happen on Christmas day.

“Is she alright?” Mr. Butler said finally.

She smiled, amused.

“From the last time she wrote to you? Fine, very. And exhausted, if I judge by the long sighs she has when she thinks no one is looking. She sends her love, I suppose.”

She did not talk about the dizzy spells. She figured he must already know. Generally, Scarlett recovered quickly from them, and acted like nothing had happened. 

He shook his head, his lips stretching lightly, dark eyes twinkling with something that looked like longing.

“Scarlett, Scarlett… Tell her all my thoughts are on her.”

“I’m not a carrier pigeon.” Pansy blurted. “It is enough that the world is your playground. The people should not be only pieces in your games.”

“Oh, so you think of yourself as a piece in a game?”

“I’m no piece,” Pansy said stubbornly. “I know what I fight for. You can’t understand it. You’re not one to fight for convictions.”

He crossed his arms, looked at her with what she interpreted as condescension. 

“I fight for me and mine, and that’s enough.”

“You say that because you do not gain from fighting for other causes.”

He smiled.

“That’s true. And generally, it’s the same for Scarlett as well.”

Pansy shook her head. There were things between her and Scarlett, a complicity, and she knew he was bothered by it.

She could nag a little. But she could also be a good sport about it. They both cared about her, after all.

Well, not in the same way, of course. But still, that counted.

“Scarlett tries. Yet, Scarlett can’t be more than what she already is. She said she can, but I see it’s not the same, and she doesn’t understand it as I do. She would not be ready to die for it as I do, would not recognize the injustice if it did not concern the ones she cares about. And she cares about me. She cares about Pork, about Prissy. And Mammy… Mammy was the one she cared most about. That is what makes her question what she thought she knew. Even if the others she cares about do not share this point of view.”

Mr. Butler shrugged.

“Yes. Scarlett is not one to fight for things and people she doesn’t see. If you want her to fight, you have to show her.”

Pansy turned her head towards him, narrowing her eyes.

“You don’t like her liking other persons.”

“I’m a very selfish person. I don’t like to share.”

“You’re not selfish. But it is true you do not like to share. “

“I don’t like the things that put her away from where she belongs.”

She raised an eyebrow at that.

“And you’re so sure she belongs with you?”

They glared at each other. 

“You don’t like me very much, do you?” Rhett said finally.

Pansy shrugged.

“I’ve seen too much to like you. I’m not like Scarlett that can like you without being bothered by it.”

“True. Well, I don’t care if you like me or not. As long as…”

“… I don’t get in the way, right?”

His eyes gleamed almost pleasantly.

“You are a clever girl.” He sighed, irritated, his hand clenching over the other. “Well, it seemed it was a loss of time.”

Yet, she knew he would do the same another time. Wait for Scarlett to return, just as she once had waited for him.

And anyway, it was only a little disappointment, that would bring a much greater joy after. 

She watched him leave and shrug. It was done. 

She had the choice. She could enjoy the reunion organized this night by her people and continue her gathering of testimonies. So far, two had been interested, but had not dared to commit more. There had to be more persons in it, they said. At least ten.

Or she could find Aren and tell him she had forgiven him already. 

Who knew? This Christmas had more options than others, and she was decided to enjoy that freedom while it lasted.

For once, Pansy was not torn between the love she felt for Aren, and the duty of keeping the memories alive. She was only human, after all. If there were something Scarlett had taught her, it was that it was alright to be selfish once in a while.

…

Life is a puzzle, Rhett decided. A picture of the world shattered into pieces, that one had to build little by little, until the image appeared completely. A selected view though, that would never show the immensity of the world, its complexity and diversity. You think it is so, yet it would never be, for the world is changing, again and again, like the tides at sea. Sometimes it shatters and you are left wondering what it really is. You either give up, feeling hopeless, or you try to pick up the pieces again. Sometimes there is a piece missing, and you don’t feel satisfied until she’s here, right where she belongs, for without her, nothing seems at its own place, nothing ever feels so charming and bright. 

Scarlett was his missing piece.

A missing piece that was still frustratingly far from his reach. For the moment, at least. 

Rhett sighed, clenched his fists in his pocket, the ring hurting him a little. But for Christmas? 

They had maintained the contact regularly. On the way, the story had become a tool when it once had been a remembrance of what was and what could have been. And it was better like that. 

What could lead her away like that? There was nothing in her recent update that would suggest she couldn’t come…

Gone was the time when he would think of her as inconsequential, forgetting the effect it would have on the children. He still remembered some Christmas, that he had to drag her out of the store because she was still buried in some account book or trying to persuade people to buy one last Christmas gift. It had happened one or two times maybe, yet it had stayed in his mind with all the things he had considered as an offense against his own person, in a period when he was looking for reasons to get away.

But how to explain it now? Was she in danger? Too closely watched, as that girl said?

She did not talk of danger, but Rhett could not help but worry. Had her cousin not heeded his advice and put her into a dangerous situation?

The road from Jonesboro to Tara was a painful one, for he was tempted to go back and check again.

It was very weary that Rhett came home to Tara, wondering how he could bear telling the news to the children. He should have told them nothing at all, then it would have been a surprise to them if indeed she was there.

He pondered it, then shook his head.

No, it would not have been right. They would have hoped anyway.

He raised his head to the sounds of laughter and whispers. His heart leaped.

Scarlett was here, in a velvety green gown bordered with white fur. On her head was a lovely green hat in taffetas trimmed with white silk gauze ending in a scarf. She laid with the children at the foot of the Christmas tree, Ella in her arms. Wade sat like an Indian on her right, very straight and bright, while Caroline and Billy were in front of her, crouched as if they wanted to take as little space as possible.

“… And then, the terrible pirate Robert entered the room, and he shot one warning shot…”

Ella was the first to notice him. Her face broke out on a wide smile and she hopped from her mother’s lap, running toward him to him.

“Daddy!”

He smiled at her, his heart beating as he tried to regain his composure. He patted the girl’s head, caressed the ginger locks, then gently pushed her away. He raised his head, and all he wanted was to reach his woman and gather her into his arms.

“Scarlett…”

She rose elegantly, and there he saw the slight swing of her delicate earrings, the silver of it accentuating the lights in her eyes.

“Good evening, Mr. Butler,” She said with a saucy smile, her head bowing slightly. 

Oh, so she wanted to play it that way? He sent her a jeering smile and bowed as well, two fingers on his hat. 

“Good evening, stranger.”

She raised her eyebrows at the title, and he had to refrain from laughter. No, he would not call her Mrs. Butler. Not now. Not without being sure.

In his pocket, there was a ring that was waiting for her, when she would be there to stay. Waiting for that new beginning on untainted grounds.

“What a lovely night it is.” She said.

“Lovely, indeed.” He replied, his throat dry, his fists clenching and unclenching as the silence lingered. “Children, go see if Prissy is not burning the capon,” When they did, he opened his arms to Scarlett, and called longingly. “Oh, come here, you vixen.”

With a smile, she ran to him and he caught her on the way, throwing his hat swiftly on the buffet. His heart danced with the rhythm of her little heels on the parquet.

There again, finally she was in his arms, and he felt the worry and frustration dissipate like a morning fog.

She smiled when he told her home was where she was and returned the feeling. They would talk about the details later, they decided. Now was a time for celebration.

Her hair had grown back a little, and he could feel with relief she had taken in shape a little. She smelled of home and adventure, a mixture of both he found very intoxicating. A hint of the rosewater of yesterday with the spicy and fruity fragrance of today, that he made it a game to guess what it was. A dynamic scent, lemons, with something more tender… Clementine, perhaps?

“Rhett… Have you by any chance threatened my cousin ?”

“Mmm?” He mumbled, blinking at her intervention, before staring at her.

She asked it with her sweet innocent face, but she already knew the answer. He could see it in her eyes, glinting back at him with mischief, and the corners of her lips, ready for a triumphant smile. He snorted. 

“Am I wrong for wanting you home for Christmas ?”

She pursed her lips. She did not expect him to admit it spontaneously. She had to find another thing to tease him about.

“You just don’t like the idea of me doing this.”

“I admit I don’t particularly like the idea of you flirting with other men.”

A flash of red light in the green. She liked that information.

“Only so they might pay the check later, darling.”

“For a cause you do not believe in.” He added swiftly.

She shrugged. She was satisfied, nonetheless. She could afford to admit it.

“For a cause I do not believe in. But which pays still. And which is important for others. It seems men will always need weapons, after all.”

“Indeed.” He smirked.

She raised her slanted eyes on him, a pout on her delectable little mouth and he wanted to kiss her. 

“I should have known you’ll try to pirate your way through it all, you hound.”

He chuckled. Only she could make an insult sound like a caress and make it look like the pleasantest nickname. One might never know if she was irritated with him, or if she was dismissing it like one silliness of a man. Yet, he knew better. She said it because she knew it was expected, and now played even more with that. But it did not really matter by itself. It was like a little foreplay in a duel, her sword meeting his.

“Come on, Scarlett, you’ll find other toys to play with. Are you complaining to be there tonight?”

She shrugged, putting her head on his chest. The sword was dropped, replaced with soft abandon.

She was not one to continue a fight if unprovoked. She preferred to tease a little, to check the strength of her opponent, before deciding to lean on him. And he was ready to welcome her.

“No. I missed you so much.”

“And I you.”

“It’s done!” Ella ran to them, excited and disheveled. “Prissy said it’s done!”

She almost fell on her face, the poor dear, enthusiastic as she was. With a laugh, Rhett presented his hand to Scarlett.

“Shall we go?”

“We certainly shall, Mr. Butler.”

She put it on his, smiling at him, and it finally felt like Christmas.

Prissy was surprised to be invited to the table, and her emotion was moving. Billy and Caroline did not leave her side, silent shadows attentive to her needs. Rhett teased her by offering her a toast, while Wade and Ella joined in adding their own compliments. Even an embarrassed Scarlett patted awkwardly her former servant’s shoulder, telling her not to cry for such a silly thing.

Rhett was amused. It was not in Scarlett’s nature to tolerate shyness and modesty in others’, and he knew she was still remembering all the moment when Prissy had been lacking in her duties. Yet, there was now an attempt of appreciation in her manner that was new, certainly an influence of her friend Pansy. Once again, he felt pleased by the elasticity of her mind, for he felt that they both would always learn and grow. No more would they be stuck in one place. That time was over.

The feast was generous, as always to satisfy his little glutton of a woman. He teased her with a barmbrack, that Irish quick bread with sultanas and raisins and she raised to the bait, saucily eating her semi-cooked duck foie gras with it with a spread of candied shallots. He preferred the brioche, melting, and sweet on the tongue. There were also shrimp beignets, spicy and fluffy, a roasted, juicy capon, the crisp skin of it covering a tender and tasty flesh, with golden potatoes, and a thick and buttery morel sauce, onions, dripping with butter. In dessert, they had a pecan pie, roasted apples with cinnamon, and a King Cake, the pastry a memory of their honeymoon in New-Orleans that normally should have been served much later, in January. But they did not care. Better early than too late.

It was Caroline that found the trinket, and she ate the cake silently, yet glowing with her little paper crown and Prissy’s happy fussing.

There came a little surprise when the children went out of the table though when Ella and Billy found themselves under a decorative mistletoe where Rhett had intended to trap his woman after supper. Scarlett’s brow creased as Ella, unthinking, kissed Billy in the mouth soundly and the boy stood, flabbergasted. 

Yet, as they laughed about it, she decided to shrug at this charming little incident and the night continued. She played a duo with Wade on the piano, not even wincing when he made a mistake. On her lips was a proud smile, and she did not seem to notice. Ella joined in the carol, and when Rhett added his own bass, Scarlett slipped on a note, and her own soprano, that had been sweet and charming, went on a higher pitch. Her cheeks burned, but as they met eyes, they laughed at it once again together.

Strange how normal this Christmas seemed to be, how loving and bright, after so many storms and shipwrecks. They ran through it with surprising contentment, when they would have thought they could only live with the thrill of a perilous adventure. Yet, here, there was a sense of peace in the moment they enjoyed, like a thick warm blanket covering them both in front of a fireplace.

When the song ended, Ella asked for some violin from Rhett, and Scarlett’s eyes widened in surprise as her daughter went to the cupboard, rummaged through it loudly, and raised the object of her search with the triumphant glory of one getting a prize. 

“That’s Pa’s violin!” Scarlett exclaimed as she saw it.

Rhett froze, hesitant. 

“Do you mind?”

“I…” He could see she was struggling with her feelings, until finally, she gave in, nodding softly. “It’s been so long since I’ve heard it.”

His slightly shaking hands took the violin. He was a pretty decent violinist. Yet, he could see she was troubled, and the emotion took him as well. He so wanted to comfort her, take her into his arms and let her cry on his shoulders as much as she wanted. But he knew she would prefer it to be later, when they would be alone together. 

He saw her close her eyes as she listened. A hint of a smile graced her lips as her head tilted slightly to the rhythm of the music, a heady Irish ballad.

Too late. Her armor had fallen quicker than he had thought it would.

He caressed her cheek, plucking the tear with his finger. She blinked, as if surprised, then nodded, her eyes in a daze.

“It was beautiful,” She said softly. 

“Mama!” Ella cried as she jumped into her arms suddenly. “Look, it makes me cry too!”

Wade’s mouth shook a little, but it was only when Rhett sat on the couch, his eyes wet as well, to gather his mother and sister into his arms that he allowed himself to join them.

“There, there, we’re good now, crying like that in front of Prissy and the other children,” Rhett jested. 

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett,” Scarlett protested. “No one is crying. It’s just the dust. It’s an old house, after all.”

“Of course, my dear, of course.”

As suddenly as she had accepted the embrace, she slipped away, all fur ruffled and ears almost pointing backward as she rubbed her cheeks angrily. She paced lightly, before making a show of looking through the books on the shelves. And then, she froze, and he knew entirely what book she had seen, what she was up to.

“Scarlett… No.”

She sent him an innocent smile, before pulling the book down. It fell on the floor with a great smash, and the smile became a smirk, as wide as the Cheshire cat’s and Ella’s cat, disturbed by the noise and the sudden threat to its life hissed.

“Woops.”

Rhett let out a bark of laughter as she sashayed towards him, her hips swinging to a song only she knew. 

“Anyway, I don’t see why you would need that particular book. Such a dreadful story anyway, with a mealy-mouthed ninny you would not even like anyway. I really had to be stuck with nothing to do to bear to read it myself.”

He shook his head, amused.

“Oh, honey… You’re making a madman out of me.”

Her eyes brightened like a lighthouse, a pale ray of green in the darkness.

“Then come. Let me treat you. I won’t send you to the attic, I promise.”

“Treat me, you say?” He raised, aroused by the game. “I do believe you’re the disease and the cure, Scarlett.” He leaned in, putting his hands around her waist, and whispered in her ear. “Come and give me a taste then.”

“Mama!”

“Oh, stop it you two, you’re being disgusting.” Wade protested, before freezing, blushing at his intervention. “Sorry.”

Rhett laughed, while Scarlett blushed. 

“To bed, children!” He announced with a large grin, his arm around her shoulders. “Else Santa Claus will not come for the last gifts. Prissy, would you please put them into bed?”

Scarlett nodded eagerly, and he kissed her on the cheek, amused by it.

“Yes, to bed, to bed!”

Ella dragged Billy by the hand, eager and unaware of his embarrassment. Wade seemed about to protest yet decided not to. He felt it would not do, to stay in that room indefinitely that night. Caroline followed silently, tied by the hip to Prissy. 

They were not difficult to tuck in, and soon enough Rhett and Scarlett were back in the living room, taking one last nightcap, conversing pleasantly until the clock rang. 

“We really need to watch these two.” Scarlett said finally, her brow frowning lightly.

“Who?”

“Billy and Ella.”

“You’ve got a twisted mind,” Rhett laughed, before eyeing her, his hands caressing on her waist and lips grazing her cheek. “To bed, Scarlett?”

She giggled, her fingers like tiny rays of light on his hands.

“Not now, you cad.” 

She turned in his embrace and put her hand on his chest, playing lightly with the buttons of his waistcoat. 

“So, what did you say you wanted for Christmas?”

“You know what I want.”

She sighed, and he saw it was taking a hold on her to have to say so, and he cursed himself for asking what he already knew. He let her away, watching her pace a little, giving her the time to gather her thoughts, until she threw a longing glance at him.

“Not now, Rhett.”

He exhaled with the expected disappointment. He knew she could not. Yet, there was still some part of him that wanted her to give it up and take refuge in his arms.

But he was no magician to make every obstacle go away like that. It pained him to admit it, but it would take more time. 

“Not now.” He repeated.

“Soon.”

He nodded back. 

“Yes. Soon.” With a little luck, soon would become a more definite date.

They let the silence linger a little. Scarlett’s hands fidgeted lightly, while Rhett’s found a sudden interest in one of the golden ribbons that had been detached from the tree by Ella’s cat.

“You don’t ask me what’s your gift?” She finally said with a lighter note.

His eyes gleamed. 

“Oh, I know what’s my gift. It’s clad in green velvet and white fur, and with a golden ribbon around it.”

“A ribbon?” She blinked, before letting a peal of laughter as he threw it around her and pulled her swiftly to him. “Oh, Rhett, you’re being silly.”

“I like being silly,” Rhett smiled, nuzzling her forehead with his own. “Especially if it makes your face glow like that. You look radiant, my dear.”

Her eyes darkened.

“Oh, when you look at me like that…” She whispered, her voice husky and sensual. And oh, he knew she was not even aware of it. 

“Like what?”

He already knew it, but awaited her words, struggling at the tip of these tantalizing lips.

She shivered against him. “… like I’m your whole world.”

His smile widened. “Not quite.” 

She was at turns his mistral and emerald sea, she was what made him go on and on. Without her, he felt stuck, forced into sleepiness in his lonely ship, waiting for the tide to come. 

“Well, that’s fitting, because you’re mine too…” She replied.

He held her tighter. That woman was going to be his undoing.

She laughed again, tilting her head charmingly. “And now you’re looking at me like a child would a candy.”

One button slipped from its hole, and she replaced it with one finger.

“Perhaps because I want to unwrap you. You seem a bit overdressed for me.”

“Oh, fie Mr. Butler! I know you normally don’t like my taste, but here I thought…” She protested, before freezing and faltering, the hint of a blush rising on her cheeks as she realized his meaning. “Oh… That’s unfair.”

“How is that unfair?”

She lowered her head. 

“Just a few words, and I’m weak at the knees, and you’re here, still impeccably calm as if you only talked of the weather.”

He did tell her he would manage to make her blush again. 

“Oh, I’m far from calm,” He said, before leaning down to the level of her ear, a teasing smile on his lips. “I’m boiling.”

Her cheeks burning, she raised her head, eyes blazing and lips pursing. He was about to continue when she cupped his face and stopped him. Oh, the contact of her lips on his, hot and soft, that little tongue that was almost timid on its approach, as if she did not know yet he would grant her everything she wanted if she asked it… His arms crossed over her shoulders as he kissed her back. She whimpered lightly when his mouth left her and he rubbed his cheek on her hair, his fingers gripping the velvety fabric of her dress.

“Do you remember, Scarlett? Our first Christmas?”

She shook her head at the memory of it, a fond smile on her lips.

“Oh, you were insufferable, that day…”

“You were like an excited child, jumping around that Christmas tree,” He mused. “with the red lights reflecting in your pea-green eyes.”

“And you would not let me open my gift.” She pouted, tucking at his necktie.

“Well, you would not say please.” He teased. “I laid you underneath the tree that night and made love to you until the bells of Mass rang.”

She hummed, shaking her head. 

“Tch. Scandalous, Mr. Butler, I tell you.” She lowered her head with a false modesty that was betrayed by her glinting eyes and patted his chest in jest. “I always knew you were a man with strange fancies.”

“Say the woman who seduces her man by pretending to be a ghost,” He said. “When it comes to you, love, I’d say strong appetites. I just can’t get enough of you.”

“Fiddle-dee-dee, seduces!” She protested lightly, waving her hands nonchalantly. “How you do run on! I did no seducing, you jumped on me like a thirsty man in front of an oasis!”

“You were that irresistible, my dear…” He leaned in, just a breath away from her lips, nose against nose, eyes on eyes. “I was quite swayed by your charms…”

“And now?”

“Let me see.” He kissed her once quickly, then two, and three, taking more and more time. “Mmmm… Sweet.”

She smiled through it and pressed her hands on his neck so he could stay. Her feet raised on their toes, a little pain that was worth it when she felt the warm pleasure of his touch on her. 

His fingers fiddled with the laces that held her gown tight against her body. The velvet turned darker with the friction between them, the buttons of his waistcoat leaving their marks on it. There was a scent of cinnamon in the air, a taste of it on her lips, with a sweet addition of roasted apple. He went down, trying to see if it was on her chin, her throat as well, and felt gratified that it was so. She barely held her breath, and it went up and down as he continued his way, enjoying the tightening of her fingers on his hair.

“Won’t you open your gift?” He heard her say suddenly, her breath warm against his cheek.

“Fiddle-dee-dee, Scarlett! I’m trying.”

“Oh, Rhett!” She giggled, pushing him lightly away and pointing at the tree. “Here!”

She handed him a tiny packet, that he unwrapped, revealing a thick golden key.

“Is that the key to your heart, my dear?” He teased. “My, I thought I already had it.”

“Oh, nothing as precious,” She purred. “But I think it will please you.”

“Knowing you, I fear the worst.”

He held it on his open palm, his eyes twinkling at her as he waited for her to explain.

“Well… I took Wade a little copy of a ship. I figure my own pirate king would be in need of the original.” She grinned, toying with the golden object, jiggling it in front of his eyes. “This is the key to the captain’s cabin. It’s anchored in Charleston, ready for you to take in your own hands.”

“Really?” He said, smiling. “How did you get it?”

“I’ve won it at poker.”

Pride was like a sun in his chest as he heard it. This was his woman, and of course she could do that.

“I knew making you learn it would pay off.”

She shook her head, her lips stretching in a wide grin.

“You knew nothing of the sort, you scoundrel. Now where’s my gift?”

“Am I not enough?” He waggled his brows, a wide smile on his face.

She looked unimpressed, her hands on her hips. 

“You’re a gift alright. Now, where is it?”

Rhett barked in laughter. She was a pretty picture he wanted to hold to make that pout disappear in a ‘oh’ of surprise, that he would then catch with his lips.

The ring was in his pocket and he was tempted to let it out. Yet, instead, he went silently to the buffet, opened one drawer, and took a little box, that he handed to Scarlett. 

He waited with a little anxiety as she opened it. He had always been used to offer her expansive, gaudy gifts, that will flatter her, and that he could dismiss easily as meaning nothing at all. An ornament for her vanity, and his, for it was a sign to the world she was his, like a doll he could control. An illusion, yet it was something easy and esthetically pleasing. 

He had thought he had got her right, that he knew everything. But now, with everything that had happened, he had realized she was one to appreciate more the gift that signified something, that she would look upon with the memory of the moment, of the one who offered it. Even if sometimes, she did not want to show it, fearing it might be seen as a weakness, she was human, more human than he had once credited her for. And just like him, she needed warmth and affection. He was determined to show her and appreciate her own demonstrations. They had lost too much time already, and now he wanted to take advantage of every moment.

Even if the flattering gifts did not hurt either.

The box let out a soft thud. 

She smiled, pleased, holding in front of her eyes a lovely brooch, adorned with a great emerald cut in a pear shape, bordered with a thin lace of gold. “What a nice brooch.”

He took a step forward, his fingers almost shaking. “It opens.”

He pushed a little button, and it gave an almost crystalline click as the emerald was pulled back slightly, held by one delicate thread of gold. 

Behind it, there was a picture in miniature, one of a faraway past. It had been taken during the second birthday of Bonnie, and the little girl was seen tumbling joyfully as Rhett and she tried to put her back in place. It was supposed to be a formal photography, yet Bonnie had ruined it all, and it made Melly laugh as her husband shook his head. Wade was looking at this with large eyes while Ella seemed tempted to do the very same thing as her young sister.

Scarlett had never really known what had become of that picture but had always suspected Rhett to have kept it jealously for himself, as he did with everything that concerned Bonnie. She might never know it was also for the red in her cheek and glowing eyes, and the delicious energy in her gestures, for at that time she had felt the embarrassment of not showing a perfect image to Ashley.

How silly she had been, she thought. It had been a happy moment, and she had almost spoiled it.

She went still, unblinking. The corner of her lips trembled slightly.

For him to give it to her…

“For every time you feel lonely and homesick,” He said, caressing her cheek. “A picture of those of the past that went away yet loved you so, but also those of the present who will always be waiting for you, no matter what, no matter how much time it takes.”

“Oh, Rhett!” She kissed it, tears coming to her eyes, and held it to her heart. “Thank you.”

“I love you,” He said simply, taking her into his arms as he let his own tears flow. Tears of sadness. Tears of joy, of longing. Tears that he was not afraid to show anymore to Scarlett, for it was something he could share with her, and that could only make love grow. “Come on, Scarlett. Lay your weary head on my shoulder. You can rest here, with me. The bells will ring soon.”

They made love underneath the Christmas tree, silently, lovingly, their eyes barely leaving the other in an instant communion. It was not about who had the upper hand, and who had not. It was about two persons, their bodies intertwined so that they seemed on the same level as they joined and explored the other’s body with the eager attentiveness of a book lover following the lines of their favorite passage. Knowing the end yet consumed by each detail that made their heart grow full. They knew the moment was precious, and tomorrow would be gone. Soon, they would be together, always. But not now. So, they had to make it last as much as they could. 

Laid together in front of the tree, he told her about his own theory of life and love, and she laughed fondly at him. She said for her it had been mostly a travel by ship, with passengers coming and going with their fortunes and misfortunes, either stealing things or giving some, leaving their own traces in it. And then one certain pirate trying to hijack it repeatedly along the way. 

With good humor, he nodded at this interpretation, especially when she agreed that the ship was now entirely his, entirely theirs to sail.

And then the bells of Mass rang, and they looked at the tree, with the star glowing above them. Snowflakes were gathering on the edges of the windows, and a wetted fog was sticking to the glass, barely broken by thin drops of water. The house was silent, with only the eventual cracking of the logs in the fireplace and the tic-tac of the clock.

“Merry Christmas, Rhett.” Scarlett smiled softly, half asleep in Rhett’s arms.

“Merry Christmas, my love.” Was replied to her.

Tomorrow, she might be gone with the rooster’s song. Yet soon, a new year would come, and she would be back to him, permanently. These moments were enough to fill his heart with a taste of what would be, a feeling so strong that if he had been a nostalgic fool, he would have said it was the magic of Christmas. But he knew better. It had been a magic they had made on their own.

He held her tighter and repeated it, letting it linger for all the ghosts that had been around them, and now that were not shadows to their happiness, but rather witnesses of it. “Merry Christmas...”


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, and thank you for your patience! I had a lot of work these days, with very few moments to write.  
> This was at first supposed to be two chapters, yet I felt it would be easier to follow in one, and that some moments that I wrote were not really pertinent, and slowed the pace. So, here’s one big chapter!  
> There are two real and well-known persons that crossed the story, as I thought that, having one character that as determined to add her voice to the anti-slavery, I believe it was a shame if she would not meet them. I hope I did not mischaracterize them (kudos to the one who will find them! One may be a bit more obvious than the other)  
> I hope you will like it!

The year for Scarlett ended in New-Haven, that rich harbor city from the North, that this day exhaled a very festy atmosphere amplified by those who just arrived from Europe, eager for a new beginning in life.

A new beginning. Scarlett dreamed of it.

Clad in a dress of rich dark green taffetas, on her her emerald brooch and diamonds earbobs she had won in a previous game of poker, she was a countess for a night, certainly a former American heiress married to an English unknown, and Pansy, that she had dragged along with her, nothing less than an impoverished princess from some African country.

Nobody dared to contradict them, especially with the mask on their faces and their attires for the masquerade ball.

If Scarlett, four years ago, had looked at herself as she was that day, she would have found herself quite dull and simple, and would have certainly added many bracelets, ribbons and necklaces, and put some rouge to her face. Yet, Scarlett, as she was now, was not aware of such a change and felt she was enough by herself without adding any embellishment. And indeed, she was. What had been lacking in elegance was now present with an air of maturity that made her more than the charming energetic young woman she had been.

She had wanted to show Pansy what she herself had been shown by Rhett long before: the attraction of luxury, the interminable parties and cheerful pleasure gained from it. It had been difficult to convince her, for Pansy had this quite queer idea she was not fit to do such thing, and that anyway, she had better values than that.

So far, though intimidated and a bit clumsy at first, with a tone higher and haughtier than it should be, Pansy finally relaxed, and seemed to enjoy it. Though she still deplored the waste of food.

Scarlett suspected she enjoyed it even more when a man with dark hair came to her, and began to try to tell her sweet things. She had an amused smile on her face as she let him do it.

Yet, somehow, Scarlett on her own found she did not enjoy it quite so much anymore. There was no Rhett to make her laugh, to tell her stories about his adventures, scandals about the people around them.

She had changed, and she was now realizing it little by little.

She danced a bit, but soon let Pansy to her discoveries, and the joy of her new beau, pretending that her feet were hurt.

Soon, it would be midnight. Soon, the year would end, and a new one would begin.

She wandered through the gardens of the house, the music from the inside still echoing, and she found herself adapting the clap of her heels to its rhythm, her hips swinging as she did.

"No woman like you should stay outside like that when there's dancing," Her heart leaped at Rhett's drawling voice, and her eyes widened in surprised pleasure. "it would give many rogues wrong ideas."

She turned back eagerly.

No, it was no dream. He was really there.

She cried and jumped into his welcoming arms, and this time, it was her lips that were hurting from smiling too much. She smelled with relief his strong, masculine scent, and rubbed her cheek on him, as if in hope that it stayed on her. She raised her head with glinting eyes and met his dark ones, alight with that teasing flame she liked so much.

"Rhett!"

He let out a slow, fond chuckle, and caressed her cheek tenderly.

"I wouldn't have missed your first kiss of the year, darling."

"Silly man," She teased.

"Say the woman who leans in and waits."

The eyes flared, the mouth pouted.

"Oh, shut your mouth and kiss me."

"At your service."

He bowed and complied. She hummed, opening herself to him, letting herself be held by his big, strong hands at the small of her back.

They got lost in it, so much it was only when the Waltz began, they emerged, and he asked her to dance.

She nodded, her enamored eyes still on him.

"You are beautiful, my love," He whispered to her ear.

"I know," She quipped. "You're not bad either."

He roared in laughter and she grinned as they swing a little more, the light of the stars gathering in their eyes. They did not even hear the counting when it began.

.

_… Robert, once during their days of travel, sat with his love under the stars, and in these nights of longing for home, he told her a story:_

_"There was once a little girl," He said. "That missed her mother so very much. Her mother was a traveler, an adventurer, that was lost in the sea. She was amazed, that girl, by the courage of her mother. She wished she was like that, yet she felt afraid of many things. And when she was afraid, she would draw the object of her fears so that it would not be able to hurt her anymore._

_"However, what she feared the most was that her mother might get lost in the way, and forget to come home. And that fear was not something she could get rid of easily._

_"So, one day, she had the idea to send drawings to the sea, so that they might reach her mother…"_

.

If Scarlett had to be honest with herself, the drawings were quite clumsy, and the lines unclear, and the potato that was supposed to represent her was not her idea of a perfect portrait.

Yet, it was the drawings of her daughter, and she missed her very much. She missed her smile, and though the teeth were a little crooked, she found it all the more charming.

And she missed Wade. Wade, with his soft and timid appearance, that she had learned hid cunnings and a strong will akin to her own.

If she had taken time to think about it a little more, she would have realized her feelings had amplified with the absence.

But she was not a fool. She had delayed their meeting, not knowing when she could make herself available, and Rhett, by making sure she got this, was trying to get her to go back more quickly.

Yet, it seemed more and more difficult. More and more often, it seemed Richard was on the point of finding her. He had interrupted an evening in the theater with Rhett, and she had to escape by the back door. She had even missed Bonnie's and Melly's death anniversary, mourning on her own because she knew he was wandering in Atlanta, an information Rhett managed to transmit to her at the last minute.

He was closer and closer to finding her, and she did not like it.

Cold from the snow outside, she was wandering through the dusty shelves of a bookshop, hoping to find a book for her son's birthday, that would happen soon. She was still so much immerged in that task that when she heard the voice of one Wade Hampton, she thought she was dreaming.

"Hello, Mother."

She blinked, yet the image of the young boy, soon twelve, with his chestnut hair with snowflakes in it and soft brown eyes would not leave her. She refrained from the spontaneous happy smile, though he had already seen the hint of it, and tried to appear scolding.

"Wade? What are you doing? Why aren't you…"

At this, Wade uttered something so quickly she did not quite understand at first. And when she asked him to repeat, he just jumped into her arms.

She sighed, as much amused as exasperated.

"Oh, poor dear… He just asked you to lie, didn't he?"

"I wanted to," Wade protested. "I had to see you. I missed you."

"And I did too…" She answered quickly, and this time, the tender smile stayed. "But it's too dangerous, sweetheart, how did you…"

She paused and frowned.

"I suppose your father did not quite let you alone like that. Now, where is he?"

Young Wade shrugged nonchalantly.

"He said it would be too obvious. Twiddle-dee and Twiddle-dum are here, though."

Scarlett blinked. "Who?"

"Alphonse and his brother. Father's employees."

"Oh…" She let out a peal of laughter and squeezed him. "My precious Wade, how I have missed you!"

He laughed with her, and she took advantage of his presence to choose with him his gifts, and to talk of the advancements of his studies.

How proud he was, to tell her of his results! And how proud she was, then, to know how applicated he was!

Well, he was her son, she reasoned. Rhett and her's son, with the softness and gentleness of the Hamiltons. It couldn't have been any other way.

Too soon, their time was up, and she forced herself to say goodbye to him.

"I'm supposed to tell you to meet us soon," Wade added.

"Of course, you are," She nodded, shaking her head in a fond way. "And that you are crying every night for me…"

"No, Ella is," Wade smirked.

She smiled widely and embraced him, her fingers ruffling his slightly wetted locks.

"Now go back to your guardians. As much as I would like to keep them in the cold, you are safer with them."

He kissed her on the cheek.

"So, are you? Going back soon?"

His eyes were so hopeful it felt hard not to give in and stay more.

"I'll try, Wade. As soon as I can."

He accepted that answer, and smiled at her in such a way her heart squeezed in her chest.

She let him go with fondness, before wandering into another shop. Her eyes stopped, glinted with mischief.

She looked at the piece of furniture in front of her, a lacquered wood state bed and thought of all the nights they could share here, on that little space, where Rhett would be forced to crouch a little to fit in, thus forcing them close in equal a size, her skin finally able to touch most of his own at the same time.

She felt thrilled just by thinking of it.

And that would serve him right. Oh, sending her own son like that!

.

_…_

_"What pretty drawings that girl sent her mother!" Solene answered, so very moved by such a love. "What a lovely, so very good girl! If she were mine, I'd take her into my arms, and sing to her, so that she would not be afraid anymore, and the nightmares would go away. I'd love her so much! Oh, Robert," She added. "It's bad of you to talk of such things. You know how I miss the children, how I wish we could go back to them, so I could tell them I love them! It makes me remember a story I've heard, that of a boy that escaped his guardians and almost lost himself in a big city searching for his parents…"_

…

.

…

_"Boys will be boys," Robert said. "You can't stop a boy from missing his parents, and try to look for them, just as you can't stop a man crazy for his woman to try to get her home. It is a consequence you have to face when people that love one another are far away from each other. Or maybe you want me to tell you this story again?_

_"Here it is…"_

.

…

_"You're a right scoundrel," Solene protested. "playing with my heart like that, when I do remember a girl waiting patiently for her man to return, without pressing him so much."_

…

_"That was her choice not to do anything, not mine. And I do remember in that story the girl had her anger to keep company," Robert said with a smile. "Is it working, dear? Don't you think time hasn't passed enough?"_

…

.

Cambridge, Massachusetts.

She heard drums and the deep voice uttering a song she remembered too well. She remembered a night as a child, when she wouldn't go to sleep, and slipped outside to seek Mammy. The night was clear and bright, and when she heard the song, she was attracted to it like a moth to a flame. Her mind had been thrilled with the secret, and the aura of mystery of the people of Tara gathering around a fire, singing and dancing. She was so little, then, that when she arrived, nobody listened to her. It was only when she danced on her own with the other children that Big Sam, in her mind so big he seemed a giant, called her with a cheerful smile, and encouraged her to continue.

She had been happy, then, to be the center of the attention as she tried to mimic their dances, jumping and kicking like she was walking on embers. How she had laughed then! How she had felt connected to the earth, to the people, her feet and gown red as the earth of Tara, red as all the people dancing around her!

Mammy had not been happy, of course, when she saw that. She had berated her all the way home, saying a young lady ought not to dance with field hands, and how Miss Ellen would not like to see her daughter like that.

The memory brought a smile to her face, and she felt like ants climbing down her ready legs. Yet, the smile did not last.

By entering, that was when she realized something. It was one thing to help a friend for a cause that concerned their interest, to fight for her folks. It was one other thing entirely to fight for people she did not know, and when she entered, looked at her with surprise, then horror.

In fact, she realized also that she even had almost forgotten where Pansy came from, and now, that fact was pointed to her painfully.

It lasted one, maybe two seconds, and Pansy did not seem to notice, as she was embraced and welcomed warmly.

"Oh, I know this song!" She said, trying to join in the conversation.

They stared at her as if she was a murderer. She recoiled, a deep feeling hitting her in the chest, before falling on her stomach.

Little did she know the song in question had been in fact not a happy one, and mentioned the escapes of slaves. Little did she know that in Tara, it had also been a way to honor the memory of fellow slaves.

Soon, most ignored her, or barely looked at her with suspicion. Pansy went to her, eyes with sparks of joy and excitement, and tried to tell her who was everyone, and through it, Scarlett nodded, and gave the appearance of one who was happy to be there.

Yet, she felt left out, and shunned, especially when she let Pansy excuse herself to go talk with others. It felt as if someone was shaking her harshly until she was left numb and empty of anything but shame. Her cheeks grew crimson, her gaze wandered down to the overused carpet.

She looked for a smile, an invitation, but with the conviction she would not find any. And maybe it was why she did not find any. She did not really know. Even Pansy's eyes she could not meet.

And then there were these voices she was hearing, these images. Those of people of the past, her people. The rambunctious Tarletons twins, cheerful and mischievous, now roaring with outrage. Ashley looking at her with disgusted eyes, and a weakness that numbed her.

Melly. Tender-hearted Melly, with her soft and timid voice, and eyes like flittering candles. Ellen, her gentleness gone, hidden by a cold mask.

And then Pa, his debonaire, red face with an anger she had never seen in him.

'Traitress', they told her. 'Traitress to your kin, to your friends. It was not enough that you threw away honor and dignity, and befriend the enemy for your schemes. Now you encourage those we fought for!

'But this is wrong!' She wanted to scream. 'Oh, can't you see this is wrong? Can't you see they are people with their own mind and strength, that do not need us as you said they did?'

She wandered, tried to talk once more, to socialize. But she couldn't find her voice. And then, she felt one woman taking her by the arm, pinching it between two skinny fingers.

"This is not your world," She hissed, before pushing her lightly away. "You should go."

Scarlett nodded numbly, for these words were the same as those of the ghosts in her past.

And on the estrade, a man began to talk, with a strong and deep voice.

"Welcome, welcome, my friends! How numerous we are today! It fills my heart with joy, to see us so united! But then, we have still work to do. The voices of the masters are still heard too many times. We are still not recognized as we should, as people with hearts, and minds, and strength. When I published my work, people thought somebody else had written it. It is such an inconceivable thing for them, a fearsome thing for them, that we could learn, and realize not only we can be like them, but we can be better than them!"

Scarlett took a glass of brandy, but just the smell made her sick. She gulped it down and exhaled, feeling a bit dizzy.

"… Beware, brothers and sisters, especially of religious white men, for they are the worst of them. They use God's words to justify their own meanness. Now, look at me. They did not want me to read, and I did. They did not want me to write, and I did. Trouble-maker, they had called me! And do you know why?

"Because I was strong, and they were not, but they wanted me to believe I was weak, and that I couldn't fight back! Because I tried to share my knowledge with my brothers and sisters, and they feared it! They feared what slaves could do with reading and writing, and thinking, oh yes, thinking!"

"And now, brothers, sisters, you too, can fight back, for our rights. For there will always be people, mean people, that will try to get us down. Are we going to let them?"

Traitress, traitress, traitress, Scarlett heard in her mind, and the air became thick and cold.

No, no, no, she thought, distraught. This is wrong. I cannot go back to the ignorance I was in before.

She slipped out of the room silently, hoping she would breathe better outside.

Yet, the air was even colder, and her loneliness even harsher under these stars where she had been happy with Rhett just weeks before.

Maybe time had passed enough, actually. Could she find a way to go back to them for a few days, without attracting attention?

She froze. She was not alone, out of the party. Aren was leaning on a wall, looking at the stars as well.

"You're not with them." She remarked.

"I'm not like them." Aren said simply. "When they see me, they see the one that got away. A traitor. I've never had it like them. I did not live like them. And when I see them, I see it in their eyes. They see me with envy because I escaped, and because I remember what they have forgotten."

"You think so?"

"I know so. And I won't try to be like them. I know they would welcome me, that for sure. But they would welcome me as a lost lamb, and I'm no lost lamb. I am my own man."

There was a fierceness in these words, a defiance that surprised her, for she had not imagined he would reject so heavily to be in such a community. The possibility was arresting, especially when she realized what consequences it could have.

"You really want to leave, then?"

Aren paused, his gaze wandering far away, following the dance of the fireflies.

"I thought it was all I wanted. To go back. Yet, the more time passes, the more I realize… Maybe I won't find everything that I've lost in the way. And that's a terrifying thing to think about. Here, I found a place that pleases me… mostly. Yet, I have to go back. If only to check what I already know."

"Which is?"

He had this look, that was without seeing, as if he was already far away.

"The paradise that stuck in my head as a child may not be what I thought it was. If it was, why then nobody tried to save me, to get me back? Why, when I try to think about my homeland, my memories seem blurred, and glow like a dream?

"Did you know? It wasn't white people that took me away from my family. It was one of my own that did it. My uncle. I still remember following him that night. I remember him accepting the money from the white men. I never understood why he did this, to his own family. I know just that once I saw him on the same ship, in chains, and it felt like justice. I just knew that, if there was any God, I would manage to escape, and I'll never be in chains again.

"And then, after a long run, I was found on your plantation. They say you are the one who found me, and maybe it is so. I don't quite remember. All I remember were warm blankets and your father, with his smile, asking to know my story. Calling me 'my boy' as if I was from his family. Offering me to stay. And I was tempted to stay. This is where I met Pansy. This is where I knew I loved her. But I could not. No, I could not.

"I always asked myself why your father never looked for me when I escaped. I've heard many stories of masters that chased their slaves, hunted them like foxes. Yet, it never happened. I thought about it. About your father. And I think it was more than not understanding what slavery was. Yes, he did not understand what it really was, but I do believe he did not really want to understand it. He owned slaves because others did, and he did not want to be left out. But it was not in him to command another man, and the others understood it. They understood he would defend them and look for their interests. In exchange, he only wanted to be presented as a slaver, for he thought he would be better accepted as a gentleman from the South."

Scarlett smiled with a wistful smile.

"I guess I got it from him. I always thought I wanted to be a lady. Yet, I could not bear to do what ladies did. And what I did not like, what I did not want to understand, I tended to ignore."

He nodded, and for once, she felt they could better understand one another.

"And what about Pansy?" She forced herself to ask, fearing the answer.

Aren sighed. "I wished she would follow me. I thought you had been the one to lead her astray. Yet, it is not so, isn't it? This will to fight for a cause, to the expanse of everything else, it is not only a fancy, isn't it?"

He crouched, his expression darkening.

"And then, there's this Adrian…"

"Adrian?" Scarlett's eyes widened. "Why, Aren, certainly you do not think…"

At the name, Aren rose up abruptly, his nostrils wide open in anger as he kicked at the dust.

"I don't know what to think. And I will certainly not ask. It is your fault, you should never have pushed her to him!"

Great, she thought. Another one she had disappointed, and was turning his back on her, leaving her all alone.

She sat down, numbed with the weakness on her knees. She felt colder, and sleepy.

She closed her eyes for one minute. Yet, when she opened them again, she was on a bed, dizzy and feeling sick.

"Are you alright, child?" An old woman with dark skin and heavy mourning clothes said at her bedside.

For a moment, she thought she was seeing Esther once again. However, soon enough, the traits got thinner, the skin clearer and if the kind and clever eyes stayed, she had to admit the woman in front of her bore very little resemblance to her beloved mammy.

"Yes. Yes, I am," She answered with a croaky voice. "Who… Where am I? Who are you?"

The woman smiled.

"Call me Harriet, dear. You passed out outside my boarding house."

Oh, yes. She had forgotten it was a boarding house they had gone to. Oh, but then, that woman must be…

Scarlett blinked, tried to see her a little more clearly. She attempted to raise, but soon enough, she was stopped.

"Eat, before you do anything else. You'll need it."

She had put a tray filled with spicy delicacies on the nightstand, and Scarlett found her mouth watering.

She took one bite, then another. It seemed she would not be able to stop.

As she felt her hunger subside, she noticed the gaze of the woman on her, and froze, uneasy. She tried to play it off, but her voice came out haughty and she cringed.

"I suppose you think also I should not be here…"

"I've seen what had happened, and I'm sorry it did. People, when they are in a crowd… Their anger just fills them, overriding their judgment," Her benefactor cursed on her own, before shaking her head with sad eyes. "Ericka has had a hard life. She's mistrustful. Yet, she's wrong. It is not by separating our two people we'll find peace. It is not like that the world will change."

Scarlett straightened, surprised.

"So… You're not against me? You don't think I'm a… bad woman?"

"A bad woman?" Harriet laughed, and in it, there was something dark. "Who am I to judge you so? God is the only one that can judge people. Only he can punish the wrongs."

She looked at her closely, then nodded as if to answer a question she had asked before.

"Besides, I have no reason to think you are like that, do I?"

Scarlett lowered her head.

"Sh, dear. No truly bad woman would lower their head like that, so pitifully. Raise up, child. You are stronger than that."

With curiosity, Scarlett's eyes went up to examine the face of the woman in front of her.

"You… know me?"

"I try to know every one that goes to my house. Yet, your identity remains a mystery, if that's what you are afraid of."

She almost sighed in relief.

"I've met many women that were hiding, and I know how to recognize them. I do not know why you did this, but at least you are with a friend."

"Yes. Yes, I am lucky."

When she was done, the owner seemed satisfied, and let her, but not before telling her not to overwork herself and that she would check on her later.

Scarlett stayed on her own for a time, reading through one book with the impression there was something she should be aware of, but that escaped her comprehension. Something very important she was missing, in herself. That sensation was actually there for a long time, but so far she did not have time to think of it.

Yet, what could it be? Her brow furrowed in concentration, yet she had not a clue.

She was still thinking of it when the door opened.

"Scarlett!" Pansy called, exhilarated, before freezing. "Are you alright? You are pale…"

She blinked, put her book away.

"Oh, yes, I am. I think I just took too much brandy."

Pansy did not say anything. She looked at Scarlett thoughtfully and nodded, an uncertain expression on her face.

Scarlett tried to smile as if nothing had happened, and Pansy seemed to buy it. Yet, her mind was still buzzing with the memory of the night.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes. Yes, I did. It was very… very enjoyable."

"Oh, yes! Oh, they sure know how to throw a party!"

"They sure do," Scarlett said softly.

"Where were you? I did not see you most of the night…"

"I went outside. I did not feel well."

"You're more and more tired, these days. Maybe you should see a doctor…"

"I'm not sick!" Scarlett answered shortly.

She did not really know why she was that irritated by that remark. It seemed her temper was more and more difficult to canalize, and it unsettled her.

It must be because it was her time of the month, she thought. Yes, that must be that.

And then why such a worry? She was just tired, that was all! She would sleep a bit more. Nothing to make a scandal of.

Pansy looked at her with narrowed eyes.

"Alright. I just wanted to help."

"It's alright. Everything's alright."

"If you say so…"

"I say so. So, what did you do at the party?"

Pansy smiled, and Scarlett let her talk, trying to find what she was missing.

.

It was when she met Rhett again she thought for a time she found it. It was his presence she had been missing, the very completeness of being with him. The intimacy of their bed in the glory of their reunion, a peace before meeting in the morning the children.

Yet, the sensation felt even more deeply, and she was left perplexed by it.

There was a new openness in their relationship that she relished on. _He_ was more open, and the more he revealed, the more she cherished each discovery like another brick on that bridge they were building to join their worlds together. Every little thing, every little crack in the armor was another victory, and if there was a time when she wouldn't have been able to bear weakness in others, she now kept every one of his vulnerabilities jealously, as a proof that he trusted her enough to show it.

Which was why it was still so very frustrating for her that there were moments when she felt he was hiding things from her.

"What are you thinking of?" She found herself asking. "What is troubling you, my love?"

His brow creased even more, and she tried to soothe it with her fingers, but he caught her before she succeeded.

"I thought the idea was that you did not make yourself notice… But then, your face is becoming known, my dear, and too closely to the defense of the black people. It is not my vision of discretion."

She sighed. "What do you want me to do? Do I have to stay still when there's injustice?"

"You can't fight for every cause that is thrown at you, even if they seem worthy to fight for. Not that openly. It is a credit to your heart that you would want to help your friend, but there are things that can't be resolved by one or two women in a year. By God, even a group of men having money and influence would not be able to change the hearts of all the people who learned from the beginning of their place in the society, and all the prejudices they thought were common knowledge."

"I don't understand it."

He kissed her forehead, rubbed his cheek with hers in a tender and intimate gesture that warmed her.

"I think you do, in a way. But sometimes, you know, we are limited by something in our mind, something that tells us we are going to get hurt if we do so. Wasn't it why you always told yourself you would think of this tomorrow, and that tomorrow would be another day?"

"I guess so."

"Every person, black or white, man or woman, doesn't want to be hurt. Some will either fight and plunge in it, hoping if they face it now, it'll be better after. Others will avoid it entirely."

"It looks like there will always be something I do not understand, and it just… it just…" She began, before feeling her voice betraying her. "I'm afraid, Rhett. I'm afraid one day my friend will turn towards me with hostile eyes, telling me it's my fault all these people had suffered…"

"She won't. Not if she's really your friend. And if she does, then she's not worthy of your tears, love."

"I wish it was that easy," She said. "No, I can't fail her. Not like I failed…"

"Melanie Wilkes?" He urged her face up, his index sliding along the line of her jaw. "By God, Scarlett, you're quite presumptuous! The only one who can decide if you failed her was Melanie. Did she tell you that?"

She shook her head weakly.

"No, but…"

"No but. Until her last breath, she told you she had faith in you, that you were her sister. Would she ever ask you to take care of her child and her husband if she thought you had failed her?"

"She wrote a letter…" She begrudgingly admitted.

Surprise raised in his expression, in the dark brows going up and the eyes widening, and she almost felt glad of knowing more than he did at the moment.

"She did?"

"Not to me. To Ashley. He showed it to me when…" She shook her head, the memory still awkward in her mind. "It doesn't matter. She said I was strong… But why don't I feel like I am strong, now? I wish… Oh, I wish sometimes I were that silly girl from before, happy for any compliment that anyone would throw at me, thinking myself so clever and invulnerable…"

When he looked at her, she felt as if he already knew what was bothering her, as if he had been in the scene with her and Ashley and knew what had happened. But if he did, he did not remark on it.

"You were not silly. Even then, you were not." He caressed her hair, shaking his head. "A bit lost, maybe. And not very attentive."

Irritated, she slapped his hand away from her hair and he chuckled, deepening his embrace. She let him, though on her face there was a very much exasperated air to show him she was not forgetting his previous offense.

It just made him laugh even more.

But when the laughter died out, and she would not reply, he sighed, and she felt he was finally letting out what was bothering him from the beginning.

"I am afraid too, Scarlett. I'm afraid this sudden awakening will pull you away from me…"

"Pull me away?" She said, offended. "Are you so unsure of me?"

He shook his head, humming as his arms squeezed her tighter.

"No. Not of you. I trust you, my delightful, bull-headed darling. With your determination, and your love, you made sure there was no other desirable issue for me. I know you. I know once you've set your mind into something, you will do anything to have it. It's as much admirable to me as a source of anxiety. See, Scarlett, life is unpredictable, and we're not known to be predictable as well. What I'm afraid of… is that it puts you in danger without me being able to do anything. I'm afraid you'll break your heart through all the eventual disappointments it'll bring. Every cause, just or not, brings its disappointments when it concerns people, for most people are changing and at the same time determined to get their own ways. Threaten their way of life, and they'll be ready to become martyr for it. And I don't want you becoming a martyr of your own."

She touched his nose with the tip of her finger in teasing.

"Don't change the role, husband. You're the unwilling martyr in our story."

"Darling, every man that you set your charms onto is a martyr in their own way," He let out a short laugh. "You make them run for it, suffer for it. And I must admit I've enjoyed that role immensely. But I don't want it for you. No, I want you full of laughs and joys."

"With children all around us?" She teased, her heart leaping with expectation.

He shrugged dismissingly.

"Well, Wade and Ella will not always be in the nest. There will be necessarily a time when I'll have you all for myself, as my own selfish heart wants it."

That was not really the answer she expected. Yet his smile was so contagious she could not help but do the same. His arms around the small of her back squeezed her tenderly, pressing her against his hard body in such a way it felt like a second skin.

"Do you remember, love, in that story of yours? That story of a heart that grew and grew the more Mary loved? I think, in your way, you know this. It can be dangerous to care too much, to invest you so much in something. The more you care, the more you risk being hurt in the process. It might seem like a story for you, or maybe you prefer to think so, so you can dismiss it more easily if you're not ready to think about it. However, people dying of a broken heart really exist. Oh, not necessarily because of one dramatic romance. Also because of disappointments.

"Melly's heart never broke because yours was in the front line. Yours and others'. She faced hardships, but she never had to fight and question what she was brought to be, nor to sacrifice herself. At least, not like you did. She was an extraordinary woman, with a strength of her own, and a deep generosity. But she would never have been it without you by her side."

"Just like I wouldn't have been the same without her by my side. Just like I wouldn't have been the same without you by my side…" She said softly. "You wouldn't have said so, before."

There wasn't any bitterness in what she said, only a curiosity, a deep willingness to understand what had been going on in her beloved's head.

She knew he understood it as he looked at her with his tender dark eyes, soft and loving.

"Before, I did not want to see."

"You too?"

His chest heaved under her, then froze, tense and hard. She felt his grip strengthen on her arms, as if to satisfy itself with the reality of her presence.

"Me too. Oh, yes. Me too. But never again."

Scarlett bit her lip.

"All the things we do not want to see…" She sighed, frustrated by the limits of her mind. "It seems there had been a lot I did not want to see."

He looked at her closely, his brow creasing and jaw tightened harshly. His thumb forced her mouth opened, to deliver her lower lip, that he caressed thoughtfully.

"It seems once the gates are open, it doesn't stop easily. Darling… Stop. Stop blaming yourself. Blaming yourself won't change what happened, and it hurts me to see you like that."

"And you, Rhett? Surely you have an opinion about it?" She said eagerly. "After all, you were always so respectful towards Mammy, and then you've told me about… what happened, with your father… what he did…"

His brow went up.

"Oh, so you remember?"

"Of course, I do," She protested, before continuing more softly. "You opened yourself to me by saying that, of course I would remember."

He sighed.

"My dear, I've commanded all kinds of men, black and white, seen all kinds of women…" He chuckled, dodging her sudden punch. "Oh, stop it, abusive wench, I did not say it to make you jealous, though it still comes as a delightful surprise."

"You rascal…"

"Yours only, darling," He drawled, taking her hand and kissing the knuckles. He looked thoughtfully at her naked fingers. "I believe there are two kinds of people: the strong and the weak."

She grinned, satisfied with that answer. She nestled like a contented cat on his body, and was soon pleased by his swift reaction.

"The weak being people who need to be guided with a strong grip?"

"Some more than others," He replied, amused. Some things never quite changed. "But it is one terrible thing, when some strong people are led to think they are weak and they cannot change their destiny. It's a terrible thing when society tries to define the strong and the weak without discernment, according to such a thing as the color of the skin. It breaks people, and I do believe, we, as white people, had every interest in making black people think they are weak. Yet… the world is changing, Scarlett. Not as fast as your friend would like it to be, yet it is."

"You don't like her very much, do you?"

He snorted, before pinching her cheek teasingly, his thumb grazing lightly her dimple.

"Darling. I've made it one of my chief missions to keep that happy smile on your face, and that of the children. She's not really helpful in that, quite the contrary."

She pursed her lips, wanting to protest yet unready to ruin the warmth of the moment.

"That sounds a bit unfair…"

He kissed the crease between her brow and sighed when she would not react.

"And then, I fear, my love, there will always be a part of me that wants to be everything to you, the only rock you can lean on."

She blinked, and looked at him, not liking the insecurity on his face.

"You're no rock, though you can be as hard as one," She said with a smirk.

"Let's not talk about pots and kettles, Scarlett."

Lashes batted lazily.

"Why the allusion, darling? Do you fear I might knock you with it if you continue?"

He barked. "You certainly would."

He tickled her until she cried of laughing and surrendered, and as he gathered her into his arms, she reached out to him.

"And you, Rhett? How can I make you happy?"

He paused, and she thought he would press her to stay once again. But he did not, and what he answered made her heart grow full even more than it was before.

"Love me, Scarlett. Open yourself to me, stay true to me, just like I love you and am true to you. As for opening…" He winced. "Well, you know I try to."

She said nothing, but nodded decidedly. She knew he already knew, but even his knowledge needed showing, needed proof. And she knew the only proof he would accept was the one she could not give right now.

She waited, listening to the soft thuds of his heart, a heart that was just for her, quivering for her.

Her mind not liking to stay on an unhappy note, it wandered on a more secure, concrete place. She smiled, forcing on the dimples as she made sure to keep her voice pleasing, light as a purr.

"Rhett… Darling… My own pirate king, love of my life…"

"I suppose that's me." He said casually, his mouth set down in an amused jeer. "What is it, pretty vixen, my own destructive little cat…"

"You're not playing the game right." She pouted.

"I never thought it was a game," He shrugged. "So, what is it you want to ask me?"

She crossed her arms and turned away.

"You're so vexing. Here, I don't even remember, and it's your fault!"

"Of course, of course." She heard him laugh, the scoundrel, before she felt his arms bring her back to his side. "Is that old age already, my dear? And here I thought you would be the one to nurse me! Well, that's a disappointment."

"Fie, Rhett!" She met his eyes in defiance, yet he wouldn't budge. And his lips were so distracting, so warm against her temple!

"Though I'm sure I'd be a pretty decent nurse. I'll nurse you so very lovingly you'll even forget there's a world aside our bed."

"Oh, I know you would, you conceited skunk."

She put her head back to his chest, pouting at such contrarious things putting her off of her purposes.

No, there was no avoiding it. The shame, and the culpability were too close to her own sense of self, and she couldn't bear knowing she could do but very little about it.

"Could you help it, Rhett?"

He looked at her attentively.

"Not in the open. Certainly not in Georgia. And not without profit. See, my dear, consistency is a virtue. If I surprise other people like that, for a cause they would never think I would join, they would be suspicious. And suspicion would lead them to seek, and there are things I do not want them to look."

"Is it so very dangerous?"

"Not if I stay discreet about it. Sometimes, I even apprehend of thinking about it myself, for fear I might let something show," He jested. "Tell me, darling, do you remember New-Orleans?"

Her eyes glistened at that new subject, that diverted her mind off displeasing thoughts. "That's where we went for our honeymoon… Do you intend to take me there? Another trip?"

"I was thinking of something more permanent."

She blinked, before realizing.

"Living there?"

"Would you like it? Of course, we could go back to Tara wherever you want…"

She hesitated.

"No! I mean… I love Tara. Yet… It's strange to say so, when I've fought for it so long… But I think it's unfair to make it some kind of secondary house…"

"You want to sell it?"

She recoiled at the idea. Her beloved Tara, sold to a stranger! Rampaged, perhaps even burned, each white brick taken down as if by revenge.

"Of course not! What an idea! No… I think… it'd be fair to give it back to Suellen and Will, fully this time. I've heard she already spent all the money she got. I feel like… I owe her, somehow. I stole her a life she wanted, it seems fair she takes a life I wanted as well. No more would I be Scarlett O'Hara, heiress of Tara, favorite of my father and belle of five Counties. Too many things happened for that, and in the way, I realize… It's like that dress, from my childhood, that I so liked to wear. Yet, now, it doesn't fit. Not as it did before… Does it make any sense at all? And… then, it feels more reassuring, to know that one of my own is still in the house… It is my childhood home, my parents' house… Yet, not that I'm not attached to it anymore, but… Oh, do you understand?"

He nodded softly against her.

"I do. Yes, darling, I do. It's a good thing you do, and you can be sure that Will will do anything for Tara."

She blinked, her eyes widened at the little hint in the voice of her beloved. A smile played on her lips, stretching through her cheeks.

"You like him."

He tried to shrug, but it was too late. She had already seen the expectation, the wish for connection.

"He's a man of good sense."

"I'm happy you're making a friend, Rhett," She drawled teasingly.

"You're going too far, I did not say I'd want him to be my friend."

Friend. Such a strange thing, to think of Rhett with friends, genuine friends. She had always seen him surrounded by people he wanted to use, and that he could throw after. Only with Melly he had seemed different, but then she figured out the high respect and admiration he had for her prevented him from getting truly close, for fear she would see who he was and would not accept him.

She knew she should have felt jealous. She had always felt jealous when the attention and the affection were not totally on her. Yet, she found here she did not mind him having male friends he appreciated genuinely. She had his heart, and nothing could change that. She knew he could talk about everything with her, and that she could as well. Yet, that did not mean they had to share everything every time.

"Whatever you say, Rhett." She said, before pondering it. "Strange. I've never heard you talk appreciatively of another man."

He shrugged good-naturedly.

"Well, difficult to talk well of an eventual rival in your affections, my dear."

"And now?" She purred.

"Now, there's nothing to fear."

"You're too sure of yourself."

He let out a bark of laughter.

"Oh, of course you would like to keep me groveling a little more!"

"Have you, really? I'm not sure…"

She did have the opportunity to continue. He had already taken her breath away, his lips feeding on hers fervently.

And, well, she had to admit the groveling was on both parts, until dawn crept through the curtains with its haunting light.

Slowly, Scarlett slipped from her lover's embrace, taking care not to wake him. Languidly, she stretched her deliciously aching members. Her toes grazed the parquet and she mourned the loss of the warmth on her naked skin. Her mouth pursed in a pout, her heart dropping at the threat of that light.

Then, just as she was thinking it, strong arms caught her by the waist, followed by the frame of one Rhett Butler pressing against her own, his breath tickling her ear.

"Wilt thou be gone? It is not yet near day. It was the nightingale, and not the lark, that pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear."

"What are you going on about? There's not even any bird." She protested, leaning on him to leave him a better access to her neck. "You're quoting someone else again."

He chuckled, peppering the sensitive skin with opened kisses that made her gasp.

Oh, to think there was once a time when she could not understand the pleasure it could bring! To think she had almost closed herself to it completely! She still shuddered at the thought of it, and could not bear of settling for anything less than the feeling of his skin against her.

During one of their meetings, Rhett had been trying to woo her with poetry, but to his disappointment, it held no charm for her, and soon enough it held no charm for him as well when he realized she had already heard most of the love poems (though still did not know the name of their authors) before, and that the one who had been uttering them had been none other than Ashley Wilkes.

To his surprise and rather dismay, even some rather explicit had been pronounced in front of her, and even if he was sure the message had got completely over her head at that time when they weren't saying the three words she wanted to hear, it still frustrated him to no end that such a man not only had stolen him such mean, but also made her completely impermeable to it.

When she saw his displeasure, she only laughed at him, fondly, before whispering in his ear that it wasn't another's talk she wanted to hear. It was his she wanted, his she would pay attention to and understand.

And indeed, it worked. Indeed, it worked.

"Oh, even theater?" He answered, his chest trembling against her with a hiccough of laughter. "My unromantic and defiantly ignorant darling. You want me to use my own words? Fine, if you're bad-mannered enough to ask it. Stay in my arms a little more, Scarlett. I'm not ready to let you now."

"A little more is forever with you."

And yet, she snuggled closer to him, a contented smile on her lips.

"Forever is a good option."

She sighed longingly, drawing circles on the dark skin of his arm around her.

"Soon…"

"Soon…" He repeated. "Am I supposed to stay with that answer for years?"

She raised on her forearms, outraged by such a possibility.

"Oh, no, not certainly years!"

He laughed, but it did not reach his eyes.

"Good. I'm glad to see we're on the same page."

She paused, unsure.

"Are you… tired to wait?"

He sighed.

"Darling, I'll wait for you my whole life if need be. But understand one thing. I am a very selfish man, and patience doesn't agree with me. It was already hard enough when I was waiting for you to love me, but now that I'm sure you do… It just makes it harder to let you go again and again. But I'll do it. I'll do it because I know you would do the same. I'll do it because I know you will always come back, just like I will always come back to you."

She relaxed in his embrace.

"It had worried you, I see that." He remarked.

"I… would never blame you if you couldn't wait," She replied softly, with a weakness in her voice she did not like. "Because every time I leave, I feel it too, and the more I do, the more it hurts…"

He said nothing more, and she felt grateful for that.

There was one thing she was thinking more and more, but she knew he would not like it. Yet, she knew there was no avoiding it.

Only one thing could end it, the way things were.

She had to be found. She had to confront Richard, prepared . She alone had to do it, so no one would link it with their family. That certainty was even more important when she heard there were still inquiries about the murders of Adrian's two accomplices, and if no witness had been found, suspicions were already spreading.

Rhett knew this, and so did she. It was like a common accord, not to talk about it, for then it would only bring them worries and unquietness. Trust, they learned, did not mean they had to know every thing the other had been, or was doing. It was a leap of faith, taken sometimes blindly.

They could not control the future. But they could believe in one another, as the only certainty they could rely on.

In the end, she stayed contently more than she had intended to, and the sun was already high in the sky when she remarked on it.

"See. Your words work better than anything that old Chasepears would have written."

"So, I see." He grinned. "Now, you're the one who is teasing."

She shrugged, leisurely sliding against him to meet him face to face. She cocked her head, her palms cupping his cheeks as she leaned to steal a kiss. His hands caressed the small of her back, before pressing her buttocks and squeezing, as he leaned in to take one more. His lips wandered from chin to throat, killing her softly as she felt the tension building once again in her body.

"Why do you even use them anyway? Do you like these references so much?"

"In part. With age, I learned to appreciate them, for it's easier to say others' words than one's own, and easier to dismiss. Yet, I can't say it wasn't without suffering that I got through them," He winced, as if taken aback by the memory. "My… delightful father wanted everything in his heir. He wanted obedience, yet with strength. He wanted perseverance, without rebellion. He wanted a copy of himself, but more than he ever could be. A son with learning, that he could be proud of. How many times have my fingers been hit because I couldn't say the words perfectly?"

"Oh, really? It seems to me you did it on purpose."

He smirked.

"Maybe so."

She giggled. "Oh, Rhett! You are the devil himself."

"I sure am."

She hummed, a smile plastered on her face.

"You don't have to do anything now," She said simply, without thinking. "I love you, and I don't want you to be anyone else than what you are, than what you want to be."

"Oh, to hear you say those words…" He gasped, before turning her over, his strong chest filling her vision as he continued with a deep, soft voice that thrilled her. "It is a sweet, yet dangerous promise you make, darling, that of an unconditional love. I'll make sure to make you remember it when it's all over and you don't like my own bad manners."

"Of course, you would, you skunk, use my confession of love against me," She teased as she reached out for his face in the dark. "But I maintain what I say. I love you all, bad manners and all. And I'll say it all the same, just because I know your torturous mind will need it when I'm not here," She cupped his face, and lay her forehead on his, whispering softly to him alone. "I love you and I am true to you. I'll come back, because there's no other way for me, no other way to be happy. I want that home with you, and the children. It is all I live for, for that hope to return to you, wholly to you, so that we could be together once again."

"I see that," In his eyes, there was this flame that burned her softly like a caress from the sun. "Then, you don't have to worry. You make me happy. I do not ask for more. And I love you all, my stubborn, pig-headed Scarlett." He pressed her one last time, before pushing her away softly. "Go now. Go now and return as quickly as you can."

.

_"There's this little thing, that I think will fit us both, Solene said in her lover's ear…"_

.

She went back, then, with a Pansy more silent and inconveniently than before, with a broodier Aren, and as the days passed, there was no avoiding the issue as they had to return to the boarding house in Cambridge.

So one night, she decided to press the issue.

"Pansy… What are you doing with Adrian?"

"Adrian?" Pansy reacted a little too quickly, her body straightening, and her voice with a queer accent that made her grimace. "Nothing at all."

That was when Scarlett realized there was another thing she had been missing, and she was just beginning to connect the dots.

Pansy had been meeting the enemy. And may have fallen for him.

"You can't seriously think…"

"What? I can't seriously think what?" Pansy's eyes flashed. "You think a man like him can't be interested in me?"

"No, that's not…"

"Of course, you would think that! You cannot imagine anyone getting interested in me, and not in you! You cannot imagine him, a white man, getting interested in someone like me!"

"You're unfair…"

"For once in my life, when you have been unfair so many times in yours!"

How could it turn like that, Scarlett thought, upset.

"I just want to help, not because I think… oh, whatever, think what you want!"

With as much dignity as she could muster, she turned away. But as she was about to open the door of the room to leave, she could not help but try to have the last word.

"And what about Aren?" She said icily.

"What about Aren?" Pansy repeated defiantly.

"Don't you love him anymore?"

And suddenly it felt like a breaking point, the heart of the matter. Pansy faltered, and Scarlett immediately regretted bringing up the subject. She tried to reach out to her, but to no avail.

"Pansy…"

Her attempt was rejected by her offended friend.

"It is not any of your business. Who are you to judge me?" She shouted. "Who is your man? A notorious cheater, turn-coat multiple times…"

Anger boiled red in Scarlett's veins. How dare she talk of Rhett like that? How could she, when she did not know him? How could she even say it, and pretend to be her friend?

"And if he is, then so am I," She said coldly.

Pansy froze.

"Then so are you."

Scarlett left the room, anger slowly turning down to sadness in such a way she did not even see the owner in the corridors.

Yet, when she found another room, she decided to ignore it entirely, and to do as if nothing had ever happened. It would not do to worry about such a thing, she decided stubbornly. She would not say sorry. She was not in the wrong, after all. And there were many pleasant things to think about, after all.

She looked through the update, skipping the parts in the story that she felt were not pertinent to answer the question she had in mind.

.

…

_"Darling. I can stand every little fantasy of yours. Yet, comfort is one thing I will not give up. Especially when I have my own fantasies that do not fit the size of that thing. I have in mind another that would be better suited for the task."_

…

She pouted, then posted her own reply. It was such a lovely bed, though! And the one he had in mind seemed ever so big!

Why, once he had laughed at her wanting big things! What was the matter, now?

.

_…_

_"Oh, but Robert," she protested. "We'll not be able to even see each other in it, and it will be so cold in the evenings!"_

_…_

.

_"Oh, but I can show you all the things that could be done to warm it…"_

.

She blushed and grinned foolishly when she saw it the week after.

For a moment, she wanted to share it with Pansy, to laugh at it. But then, she hesitated, apprehensive. Pansy had been spending more and more time with her new friends now… Maybe she wouldn't like to be disturbed…

And then she had said such terrible things!

No, she would not cede until she apologizes!

But now, she had to meet with Rhett. He wanted her to come and see a house in New-Orleans, and she was determined to like it and forget her worries for a time, though short it may be.

.

1140 Royal Street. Well, Scarlett felt very much flattered by it.

It was a great three-stories mansion with a flat roof, and the balconies on the first floor were limited by iron grillwork. On the door she saw the carving of a man in a chariot, with flowers and garlands around him.

But what was even more impressive was the inside, with its vestibule in black and white marble, and a curved mahogany-railed staircase that led to drawing rooms even more splendid.

"The mistress of the house must have housed quite a lot of parties in there…" She wondered with awe.

The man with them eyed her curiously.

"She did."

The visit continued, one room more sumptuous than the other before.

Still, she could not help but have the troubling impression she was being watched closely by a cold gaze.

.

"You're going to live in that house? The Lalaurie House?"

It was the first thing Pansy said to her after a long time when she returned to Cambridge at the invitation of Harriet for a tea, and it was with a disapproving expression Scarlett found intolerable.

She had wanted to enjoy the moment, talk about it with Pansy and Harriet, hoping it would somehow appease the tension. Yet, she felt instead her temper flare.

"Well, it's a beautiful house, and I don't see the harm in living there…"

"Don't tell me you don't know?" Pansy cursed, rolling her eyes. "God, you're so ignorant! You don't see anything aside from your narrow point of view, do you?"

Harriet let down her cup abruptly, and glared at them.

"No matter what color the skin is, men or women. Love and friendship are the most precious things in the world. It is not to be thrown away at the first difficulty. I will not stand and watch you fight like that in my living-room."

"I do not want to throw it away!" Scarlett protested. "She's… Oh, whatever."

Pansy did not say anything, a stubborn expression on her face, and Harriet looked at her with insistence, until her posture faltered. Her eyes softened and she raised, with the irritated stance of a queen that thought she had lost her time.

"Then I believe you both will survive it."

"Mrs. Jacobs…" Pansy tried.

The owner raised an eyebrow, then left, closing the door with more harshness she had demonstrated before.

It took several uneasy minutes before both women finally admitted they were sorry, and even less time to finally embrace one another, with the dizzying feeling of having almost lost one precious thing that had been taking them time to build.

"I'm sorry, Scarlett," Pansy said. "I shouldn't have called you narrow-minded, and so many other things. Not when you tried so much to help and I… and I…"

She was in such a state she wouldn't hear Scarlett's own protests, and in the end, it seemed difficult to know who was in the wrong. Or if anyone had been that in the end.

Finally, they settled on a safer subject, and this time, an answer came.

"I do not have all the details. But it is said one day, the cook provoked a fire. When the firemen came, she was crying. There were people in the attic, she said. People that needed rescuing. Yet for some it was already too late. Because upstairs…" Pansy gulped, as if the memories had been hers entirely. "Upstairs they were there… the slaves. Mutilated, half-starved… It's a terrible thing, what happened there…"

And then it suddenly made sense. Rhett's deliberate obliteration of that part of the house's history, the reaction of the one who made the visits, the face of the persons as it was mentioned… It all connected in Scarlett's mind with all the horrors it possessed, and numb with it, the only sound she managed to let out was a pathetic:

"Oh."

"Yes, oh." Pansy nodded. "And then this Mrs. Lalaurie went away, back to her country. She never was inquieted."

"I don't understand… How can someone treat people like that?"

Pansy's gaze softened.

"I know you don't understand. You can be cruel when you feel attacked, yet it is not in you to understand such a twisted cruelty."

She shivered.

"It is said though they're still here. Haunting the house. And that when the mistress died, her soul joined them."

They stayed in each other arms a little more, until finally she gave in.

"You were right, in asking me what I was doing with Adrian. I don't know."

"Do you love him?"

"I don't know. I thought I only loved one man, that I could only love one man. But now, I'm not sure. How did you realize you loved your husband?"

Scarlett's answer came easily, though she regretted it had not come to her much earlier.

"When he was the first one I wanted to turn to for comfort."

She thought it, but did not say it. _When I almost lost him…_

This was not a reassuring thought, and she preferred not to say it.

Pansy shrugged, a bitter smile on her lips.

"Then, I suppose I do not love him. I was flattered, I guess. It's funny, when I thought I had no vanity to be fed like that. He's one of these men that can do that, you know. An adventurous man, so well-learned, and who said he would fight for me…

"You deserve so much more than that man."

"I used to believe the same about your husband. Yet, I think, if you believe he does, I'll have to question that opinion. After all, from the way he handles the children, he must not be that bad," Pansy jested, before sobering. "The fact is that I don't know what I deserve. And now, with Aren… I don't even know if he would accept all of me."

"There's only one way to be sure, it is to talk with him."

"When this is over," Pansy decided, though Scarlett wasn't sure it wasn't just a way to put it back on the morrow, like she once did.

But at least, it forced her to reconsider what she herself had put back before.

They talked all night long, but this time, it was about the more concrete, immediate danger in place.

They had to get rid of Lord Richard Fenton. They had to find a way to trap him.

And if the human justice could not hold him back, then maybe it was time to think of more drastic measures.

.

The next time she saw Rhett, he replied at her inquiry about the house that he was not one to let superstition stop him from concluding a good business. He was almost defensive as he said so, and it ended up in a fierce quarrel, one of the first open since he let her go. She accused him of wanting to take advantage of her ignorance, he accused her of not trusting him, and being too much influenced by her friend. Soon, the matter became so muddled when rage mixed with the aching need of one another, yet each wanting to prove they were right.

In the end, as they looked at the aftermath from the mess in the bed, she realized, among other things such as he had been right about the size of it and the things that could be done on it, that the matter of the house was not that important, and he knew it as well. And that anyway, he himself had been bothered by it, when he said with a false casualty that anyway, somebody had managed to snatch the house, and that he had already found one, though smaller, that would fit better what they both wanted.

When he showed it to her, she felt it. Yes, it was right. It was home.

It was a large colonial two-story house, with bricks, cemented colons on the front porch and a roof like those of the temples Wade's books talked a lot about. It was a mixture of the Old South and the new, lined with cypresses and oak trees, and something she could not really put a name to it, but that felt very exotic to her.

It felt like a haven, somewhere they could take refuge in and rest.

Their hands joined, and everything was forgiven, forgotten.

Her mind was made up. She would either go home or go down. She couldn't let the situation as it was, lingering. Now was the time to be brave.

.

This was the day. The day when it had to end, Scarlett decided. She had left many hints, many traces of her passage, so that Richard would find her.

And now, he would find her at the most obvious place: in Atlanta, where it all began.

Her cousin had betrayed her, she had learned soon enough. He had been the one to tell the lord of her locations, thus explaining the close encounters. But it would turn in her favor, she decided.

She knew the place, she knew what they had planned.

They would lure him at night on a pond, and she would make sure he was unharmed and unsuspicious. Aren and Patrick would look for any eventual partners of his, while Pansy would look for any wandering officer. And Todd, Scarlett decided, would stay close for the final act: the actual deed.

She shivered at the idea.

"Todd," She said softly at the end of the discussion. "If something happens…"

"Yes, Scarlett," He repeated. "I'll tell your husband, and transmit your feelings to him and the children. And run for my life, for I believe he will not let me go in peace."

She sighed.

"But I guess it'll be right," Todd continued. "He would be right to do so."

"In riches or death, har!" Patrick laughed. "That's worst than an actual marriage!"

"Everything would be alright, Scarlett," Pansy said softly, Aren silent by her side. "We know what we have to do."

"I know you do."

Oh, to have such friends!

She would find a way to get them back. By any mean necessary.

.

She waited as it was expected, her foot stamping anxiously on the stone of the Holcomb bridge. She had taken a glass of brandy for courage, but she realized it might not have been a great idea. The silence of the cloudy night innerved her, and she wanted to scream at the moon when suddenly, she felt Richard prowl behind her.

"There you are…" She heard his whisper in her ear, filling her with disgust as his hands gripped her thin waist.

She managed a smile, and turned toward him.

"Here you are," She purred. "Here to claim your prize, I believe."

His teeth flashed in an almost surreal way.

"It seems so."

Suddenly he pressed her body against the balustrade and kissed her hungrily.

Dirt. It was all dirt, she thought with anguish. He was making her dirt, and pressing her body too hard she would fall if she did not push him. Yet, she regained her calm and looked through his clothes, getting rid of the weapons in his pockets.

She made herself giggle, and pushed him lightly, retrieving her knife from her gown just in case, and he laughed back as his back leaned on the balustrade. The vision troubled her for a time. Because for that time, the villain in her story looked like an eager boy, perhaps a bit drunk. He was disheveled, a pleasant smile on his face.

He got back to his feet, and took a step forward to kiss her again, and she took a step back, apprehensive.

She tried to regain her calm, but her breathing was too jerky.

Todd was taking too long. What was he doing?

Her heart skipped a beat, her blood running cold, and she began to question what she knew for one terrible second.

It was a human being she would cause the death of. Again. And she knew next to nothing to him, except that he was a threat to her family, and future happiness.

"I've got you…" He tried to reach out to her as if for a caress. "Finally the past can be rewritten…"

"The past?" She said numbly.

He grinned. "I am not a victim anymore. And you are not. I've won. I've finally won…"

But she wouldn't let him. No, she wouldn't question herself. She couldn't.

His eyes widened as she stabbed him in the middle of his chest with a cry, and she saw the flower of blood grow around the knife.

"I want nothing of your past," She hissed.

He looked at her, bewildered. He did not even try to touch her, so shocked he seemed to be.

He did not even make a sound as she pushed him, and she heard the sound of his body falling back in the water.

"He's dead," She said, the cold reality of it settling. "He's dead," She repeated as she finally heard Todd joining in with quick steps.

"Are you sure? You were supposed to wait for me!" Todd protested.

Scarlett shrugged, irritated.

"You were taking too long. And well, he just jumped to Halifax for all I care. I did say I would send someone there one day, and for it to be the day!" She let out a heavy sigh. "Strangely satisfying."

"But…"

"No but." In her mind, it had already been decided as a finished act. "I'm going home, and I won't let anyone stop me, this time!"

Villains' deaths didn't have to be dramatic and eventful, she thought. It was a bit anticlimactic, certainly, but then, she did not care.

She could go home. Rhett and the children were waiting. Together, they had a new life to build.

Yet, there was just a little detail she had to fix.

Scarlett O'Hara Butler was dead. It was time she found a new name.

She faltered.

She'll have time to think about it later. She was very weary, as if suddenly, instead of being free of a burden, she had gotten another one. Yes, sleep seemed like a very good idea at the moment. Then, she'd go home. Yes, she will…


	39. Chapter 39

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thanks for keeping up with my story. I hope you are alright in these difficult times, and wish you all the best.  
> I’ve finished recently “Incidents in the life of a Slave Girl” by Harriet Jacobs, and “Narrative of the life of Frederick Douglass”, and I can’t recommend them enough. It’s truly enlightening and inspiring, and I couldn’t help but adding some hints (and even the authors, and now I feel so very conceited and a bit fearful to have mischaracterized them. They deserve more than little passages in one chapter of a fanfiction) to it in the previous chapter.
> 
> Don’t worry, no Lalaurie house for the new life of Scarlett and Rhett, though the house might come back later in the final act. Beware, there’s a mature scene in that chapter 😉
> 
> Good reading!

_“I’m coming home, my darlings…” Solene said. “I’m coming home to you…”_

.

This had been posted three weeks ago. Since then, no other news. Nothing, not even a word from her accomplices, who, after verification, seemed just as surprised that she was not home yet. As for that insolent Pansy, she seemed to have disappeared into thin air as well.

Rhett looked at the words once again, and the others that surrounded them, yet there was nothing else. From what she had said, she had been to Atlanta, and intended to join them in their new home in New-Orleans. No hint for something more. Had something happened in the way? Had she been distracted by another fancy, by that cause that had been thrown at her and that she clang to because of misplaced culpability and friendship to her former servant?

Oh, that woman, if he’d see her again…!

If he had to be honest with himself, Rhett had never quite liked the idea of Scarlett truly befriending others, her happiness depending on others than him and the little family they formed. He had accepted Melanie Wilkes, because he could see she had the same goal as him: make that strong and infuriating and so, so dear woman happy, no matter what the cost could be. In her, he had found almost an accomplice in that aspect, though her nobility of character and selflessness were not qualities he recognized in himself and thus felt quite intimidated. She was someone he could not help but admire and respect, and it was not something he was used to. 

But all these Mamie Bart, Pansy, trying to instill ideas to her head, making her question things that sometimes were too close to home, and that could lead her into danger… It was not something he could control, and he did not quite like it.

The anxiety was raising and raising, and the more he looked, the more he feared, with the powerlessness of having to delegate the searches to others. 

“Daddy?” Ella asked, every day since the day Wade eagerly showed her the update. “Is Mama coming home yet?”

“Not yet, my sweet,” He replied distractedly.

His eyes caught the book in his shelves, many times fallen, stamped on, and with certainly more than one spill of coffee in it, dropped in revenge for something that never happened and that never would. 

He smirked. That was an idea. He indeed needed someone to care for the children, after all, if he wanted to look for Scarlett himself and bring her home, by the hair and kicking, as he had promised.

…

_‘Rich widower and adventurer seeks young governess for two children, boy and girl. Experience and knowledge required. Scandalous wages promised.’_

…

On the day of the interviews, many women came lurking to see who that rich widower was, and what scandalous wages actually meant. There was an eager fluttery of skirts in the little boudoir of the hotel in New-Orleans, and whispers all around. All kind of women were found here: from the hardened governess, strong of her experiences and knowledge, to young heiresses in search of the thrill of a new romance, including fancy, easy women, intellectuals and modest little birds wearing their little cross, their eyes downcast and placid.

All around, the employers of the hotel were hurrying at each request, carrying drinks, accepting eagerly every little corruption of these ladies that wanted to stand out in the crowd.

Those who left the little office that had been provided all wore little secretive smiles, dropping little words that intensified the whispers.

Thus, it was quickly confirmed that said widower was handsome, with a few strands of grey hair on the temples that accentuated his charms, very elegant and tall, and with a strong presence that was irresistible and swoon-worthy. And then, that when it said ‘scandalous’, it meant exactly what it was.

Those who said he was a cruel man, mocking them as they presented themselves, were dismissed. They were not important, after all, and the man had been right to laugh at them.

…

Felicity Chaps sat, her head high and with the dignity of her sixty years, eyeing her surroundings with expert eyes and the assurance of her superiority. Forty years, she had taught all kinds of children, subdued them until they finally could _extraire la substantifique moelle_ of the indisputable truth she was presenting to them

It was not this Rhett Butler that was about to show her how it was done.

“I’ve heard you are quite good with Latin. Let’s try it,” He said nonchalantly, following with his pen the lines of his desk. “Quod autem de puncto loquebatur linguam mortuam est?” (What’s the purpose of learning a dead language?)

She blushed in outrage, before replying coldly.

“Lingua scientia est.” 

“The language of knowledge maybe,” He retorted. “But I don’t want my children using fancy expressions in it to show off when they could be better shared in English.”

Their mother would never forgive him if they did, he thought with amusement. 

…

“Bonjour, monsieur. Comment allez-vous?”

Generally, when Helen Smith, nicknamed by her friends Nelly, said so, the man in front of her tended to nod eagerly at her knowledge, and aborded another subject of conversation, to hide his lack of it. Then, she could easily charm her way in and make her golden locks jingle lightly, in the way the gentlemen liked it.

How handsome he was! And if he could prevent her from a dreadful, boring life with the old man her mother wanted her to marry, why not?

“Oh, so you talk French?” He said with what seemed to Nelly to be delight. She dismissed the mocking light in his eyes though. All men liked to keep that kind of gazes, as if to show their superiority on her sex. It was the fashion of the moment, after all. “Dites-moi, avez-vous lu Thérèse Raquin ?’

She froze. Oh, damn it, that one knew it. 

‘Oui, oui,’ She tried. ‘C’est très interesting.’

His black eyes were hypnotizing, a faint light dancing in it.

‘Que pensez-vous de la fin ?’ He said. ‘Vous devez penser qu’elle est très appropriée, n’est-ce pas ? J’avoue ne pas avoir compris le remords des deux amants. Après tout, le mari était quelqu’un de chétif, donc qu’il meure rapidement maintenant ou plus tard d’une longue grippe, quelle importance ?’

Nelly winced, her lips pursing. She had not understood anything, but she wasn’t willing to let it show.

‘Oui, oui. C’est très joli. Je beaucoup aimé.’

He blinked, then smirked. 

“Fantastic,” He drawled.

The girl straightened, delighted by what she thought was appreciation.

“So, I’m hired ?”

“No. Oh, forgive me,” He let out a sharp laugh. “Non.”

…

“How old are you?” 

Raising an eyebrow, the man let out one of these sharp, almost cruel smile that made Alicia shiver down to her bones. She had come there expecting an old man that she could charm, and who would mention her very generously in his will. Yet, instead, it was an entirely different man she was facing. A strong man, with the elegance of a panther and one sensuous mouth she could only imagine would work wonder on her body.

Definitely her type.

“Not old enough to die anytime soon.”

So easily discovered. She refrained from a pout.

“You’re quite good-looking.”

“I know.”

“A shame, being tied to two children.”

He smiled. “I take it you don’t like children. So why the interest?”

Well, now that she was there, she might as well be honest.

“Money. And curiosity. It is said you are quite a good lover…”

Black eyes glinted. Maybe there was a chance…?

“I’m not interested. You will have a better luck with the door.”

…

“And who are you, miss?”

“I’m Jane. Jane Elliott.”

“Interesting,” He said at the modest and fragile girl in front of him.“Do you come from any severe institution, Miss Elliott? Do you carry a heavy cross?”

“Most severe.”

He paused, looking at her closely. 

Oh, yes, she still remembered her days at the orphanage, then the institution where she had suffered all kinds of injustices. 

And then, suddenly, the revelation after the reading of one decisive book…

“Little girl,” He said, leaning toward her and chuckling darkly. “I’m no lost man waiting for an innocent soul to redeem himself.”

She blushed and did not meet his eyes.

“Everyone needs redemption.”

“I am not a fantasy from one of your silly novels. I’m a hard man, some might say devil, and I intend to keep on being it, and relish in it.”

With a woman as hard as I, who will not expect me to be anything else, he thought.

…

“You.”

This was said with as much contempt as he could muster.

Pansy smirked.

“I guess that means I don’t have to present myself.”

Rhett Butler raised abruptly, his eyes suddenly intense, and the young woman had almost the temptation to step back, for every little cell of her brain screamed danger at her. 

“Where is Scarlett?”

Oh, so she did not return home yet. 

Indeed. Where on earth could she be?

Pansy had looked everywhere, contacted Mrs. Jacobs, to no end. And then, there had been this offer in the place where the story had been, and she thought her former employer had decided to take Scarlett to another place to make her forget everything that wasn’t him, and asked for someone to take care of the children in the meantime. 

Yet, it seemed it wasn’t so, and it was in fact an attempt to find her as well.

These two… 

For a long time, she had thought he was like the wind that infuriated Scarlett’s fire, making her even worse than what she had been. But it seemed in fact now that he was more like the sea, and she the wind, both wild and unmanageable when together. When they were opposed, what a storm it formed, and she couldn’t dare to imagine what it could be if finally they were united, especially with one common goal. 

The world would tremble, she shuddered.

“Perhaps she finally decided she was better off without you.”

A hope, yet short-lived. She knew her friend. 

The fists clenched, hers and his.

“And you came to say it to my face? That’s quite bold of you.”

She met his eyes defiantly.

“There are many things I’ve learned these few years. I am not afraid of you.”

“How unwise,” He said casually, though the threat was clear. “So, what are you doing?”

She grinned. If he didn’t know, she wasn’t about to say she didn’t as well.

“I need money.”

Well, that was the truth. Money was still needed if she wanted to continue her engagement as she wanted, and Scarlett and her had quite agreed that making it more public would provide more opportunities. They had tested the limits of a work in the shadows, and as much as it had provided, they couldn’t go on and on like that. 

And then, there was another matter that she had to settle, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to if she had to continue moving. A matter of the heart she had delayed too many times and, if she had been enraged by her friend’s nosiness, it had made her realize she couldn’t do it any longer. 

But for that, Scarlett needed to come back to life, and for the moment, there were no signs of her yet.

“And you think to find some here?”

“I’ve heard you had some.”

“And what would be your price?”

She idly looked around, but everything was infuriatingly in place, too tidy for her sake. 

Where could Scarlett be? She would not abandon her husband, her children. She was not volatile enough to do so. 

She took a pen, put it askance.

“Expansive. I’m raising the stakes. Many want to pay me.”

“I can’t see why,” He tensed, taking the pen back and putting it in its rightful place. She snorted.

“Others do and that’s the most important.”

He let out a wide, malicious smile as he leaned toward her.

“Then it is with the utmost pleasure that I say to you: get the hell out of here.”

“And it is with the greatest pleasure I say I never wanted that job anyway. I’m not a slave anymore to wear myself out for you folks. So, it is I who refused.”

She raised with a defiant grin and went back to the almost empty boudoir. The grin faltered and she leaned a moment on the door, worry beginning to settle. 

But then, her brown eyes met green, widened at the wink thrown at her.

Her head falling backward, she let out a loud laugh.

Oh, these two!!

…

Facing the white marble chimney with weariness, Rhett held himself straight, his hands joined achingly behind his back. It had been a long day, a useless day, with many women almost throwing themselves at him, or wanting to belittle him, or change him, and he had enough. A few might be acceptable, maybe. But there was always something in them that irked him. He had become quite a private man, he mused, for now he had become more and more selective, jealous of the intimacy of his little family and unwilling to share it with someone new.

And then a very displeasing encounter he did not want to think of.

“State your name and motivation. Quickly. I don’t have much time.”

“Catherine Bertha,” A familiar, beloved voice with that slow Georgian accent rang to his ears like a song. “And that was certainly not the welcoming I expected.”

His heart leaped to her as he turned back with a gasp. There she was, the infuriating, beautiful latecomer, and she was looking as if she had only left him for a day. She was wearing a deep blue velvet walking dress with the bodice opening in a small neckline in the shape of a V, too small to show the cleavage, but not too shy either. It felt like an invitation that was at the last moment declined with mischievous eyes and a little slap in the audacious hand that dared want to touch the little bit of skin and the tempting collarbones. On her head, there was a cheeky little hat that accentuated the mischief in her eyes.

It was more modest than what she used to wear during their marriage, less tacky. This was the dress of a woman who had matured and was sure of her charms, with a little quirk that was just her, and that amplified the attraction.

And indeed, she had changed. He had felt it in their meetings. He had felt the new thrill in their more intimate moments, and at first attributed it to the little hint of uncertainty the situation had brought to them. For the clothing he had seen the attempts, more and more assured, until finally she found something that seemed to please her. Her adventure had opened something in her that he found as exciting as challenging, for it forced him to face the fact that he still had things to discover about her, and he had to keep up with her, so that he might not wake up one day, feeling unworthy of her.

With brisk little hands, she was taking off her black kid gloves, revealing with agonizing slowness the skin of the wrist, then the tender palm and the swift, long fingers.

He felt his throat run dry.

“Scarlett…”

The face seemed innocent, but the eyes glinted in mischief.

“Who, sir? I am but a humble governess. And then, if I’m not needed…”

“Come here, you infuriating woman,” He said it, but it was he who hurriedly came to her side, touching her face, her shoulders, her elbows, not leaving her any time to obey. “By God, you’re a sight for sore eyes! Where were you? Why didn’t you come sooner?”

Her gaze softened under his concerned eyes. Her gloves fell on the floor as she let herself be touched by him, obviously savoring the caress.

“I wanted to. But then I fell sick…”

“You fell sick?”

She bit her lip. She hadn’t wanted to mention it. It was nothing, really. A silly faint, with a little bit of cold. 

“I’m fine, now, nothing serious,” She cut sharply, visibly not liking that question, before faltering. “And I needed to see Melly and Bonnie… At least one last time.”

He lifted her chin and leaned in, and she felt warmed by the love and understanding in his eyes.

“Oh, darling…! Us living in New-Orleans doesn’t mean we will never go back there.”

“I know. But then I wanted to bring back something of them. You know, so that they see they are not forgotten.”

“They know of it, love,” He kissed her forehead lightly. “Don’t blame yourself for not being there…”

“I’m also sad for you,” She added pitifully. “I should have been with you. And I… needed to be with you.”

“And now you’re there. That’s all that matters.”

Her eyes went up, alert.

“It’s over. He’s gone.”

He nodded. 

“Mind telling me the particularities?”

She shrugged, her gaze away and fingers drumming lightly on his chest. “Pushed down the water, with a knife in the heart. Never seen since.”

He frowned.

“Scarlett…”

“What?”

His head shook in amusement, his white teeth flashing against his scandalous red lips.

“That’s sloppy, my dear. Either the body comes back too soon, either there’s no body at all.”

Her eyes widened, but she just laughed, like a little child relieved not to be punished for a big mistake.

“Who cares? He’s dead anyway. I’m sure of it. We are safe.” She shrugged, before taking a step closer and raising her luminous eyes on him. “Oh, Rhett! Can we drop the unpleasant subject and just be happy?”

He smiled and refrained from telling her if he had taken care of it, it would have been faster. At least, he thought now that he would have been able to. Yet, he shrugged it off. Her satisfaction brought a radiance to her figure that took his breath away. 

And anyway, it was no use to worry themselves for now. They were together now. All would be settled in time. 

He took a step back and affected a businesslike manner. She smirked, recognizing it, and amused herself in mimicking him. 

“So… Miss Bertha,” He gagged at the name. “Lovely, maddening woman. Now that we’re done with the presentation, I believe a little inspection is in order. What are your qualifications for this work?”

Her neatly clipped brow raised up. Hands were put on her waist in an almost offended gesture.

“I am the children’s mother. I think now you can admit that I am qualified to take care of them.”

“Oh, I’m not sure,” He said, sitting back quietly to the chair behind the desk. “After all, there is also an elderly man that needs soft care. For the children, I have no worry. Yet it is for the man I’m most anxious about.”

She pouted. “You’re no old man. And you wouldn’t want me to treat you as such.”

The arms opened, and she eagerly pressed herself to him.

“No. You’re right, my darling,” He chuckled fondly, his fingers grazing her face as if he could not believe she was here, with him. “But I need your care nonetheless.”

Green orbs glinted back at him, and he knew the response before she even uttered it, as swift and clear a signal as one of a lighthouse to a lost boat could be.

“And you shall have it. With all of my love.”

The black coals of his eyes were alit with fire at this.

“I have high expectations.”

Her grin widened. Red lights flashed in the green, like goldfishes coming to the surface.

“Funny, so have I. I believe we’re on the same page.”

“Let’s find out and settle the terms of the contract, then,” He drawled, cupping her cheek firmly. “Your heart is mine.”

She did not even flinch, but grin even harder.

“And yours mine.”

“No gentleman lurking too close.”

“No mistresses, even if one day you get bored. So, don’t ever get bored.”

He chuckled.

“My dear, you are many women in one. How can I ever get bored? It is I who must be worried.”

“You’re not worried at all,” 

“A little,” For a moment, his features hardened a little. “No separate beds.”

“Then, you better make it pleasant, darling,” She drawled teasingly. “I don’t want a man restraining his emotions with a curb bit in my bed. You’ve shown me better than that.”

“Oh, I will. Let’s agree that there will be only the two of us, both wholly committed, in it.”

“Of course,” She smiled. “No getting to bed angry?”

“Oh, but imagine all the sweet reconciliations on that bed!”

Red colored her cheeks as she attempted an offended scowl. “Only you could ever think of such a thing, varmint.”

He smothered a grin. “And now you’re thinking of it too. My, my, you’re becoming quite wanton!”

“Hush, you fool. This is all your fault.”

“Yes, I take full responsibility. And I’m quite proud of it.”

“You’re too conceited,” She said with a laugh. “Yet… It is still so surprising to me when before…”

This changed the atmosphere quite a bit, making it a little heavier. He sighed. 

“You grew up and lived terrible things, Scarlett. You’ve been used by men you did not love in a place where women are shamed, and led to be afraid of the reactions of their own bodies. I’m glad you opened yourself to it. Personally, I would have found it a waste, with that body you have, that promise in these tantalizing eyes of yours, in the way you made your hips sway…”

“Would it have changed anything?” She asked softly. “If I hadn’t opened myself to it.”

His answer came so spontaneously she smiled, dismissing the feeling of relief as a foolishness. “No. The connection would have still been there, too obvious for me not to do anything for it. It would have been another kind of intimacy. Yet, as long as there was love, you would have found me on my knees.”

She considered it and nodded. 

“I don’t want you to be on your knees,” She said, and hit him lightly on the chest at his disbelieving raise of brows. She fiddled with the soft fabric of his plastron. “That’s not what interests me anymore. I want to know every one of your secrets.”

He froze, an instinctive shudder running down his spine, a doubt he tried to get rid of. That little what-if he had always tried to make it seem insignificant, but that was hurting more than he would have wanted it to do. 

“Half of it.”

“All of it.”

“You drive a hard bargain.”

“I know what I want.” She said simply. “No poker face with me.”

“No acting with me,” He countered. “You show your cards, I show mine. No plotting in the house.”

“It goes for you as well,” She retorted. “And I want to continue to help Pansy, more openly this time.”

He sighed. “So, we’re not to be rid of her yet?”

“She is my friend. I want to help her. You don’t have to like her, but I will not be bullied out of this.”

“Not even pressed very tenderly?”

His hands softly squeezed her tender sides as he pressed light kisses along her jaw. His mustache tickled on her skin, a familiar and pleasant sensation she savored with closed eyes.

“Rhett!”

“A pity. I had much in reserve.”

“Oh, you can still give it to me. But do not expect I surrender in return,” She teased, an avid light glinting in her eyes. But then suddenly she remembered the feeling of being shunned, the hostile glances, and her determination grew. “And then it would serve them right, for looking at me like I was a murderer! I want to see their faces when they realize they’re indebted to me.”

“You’re a greedy woman.” Rhett said fondly. 

He let out a bark of laughter. How similar they were, he thought. He should have known one of the better ways to engage her in the defense of a cause was to spurn her efforts to be accepted, for it would encourage her to do it for spite. For his part, he still remembered with affection the day when he saved the Old Guard’s men (and in particular one Ashley Wilkes), and led them to hide in Belle’s house.

Even if some details of the day should stay forever in the conjunctures.

A forcing of fate, one had called it not so long ago. Yet, to his conscience, he made sure to leave it to hazard that day, in a rare moment of uncertainty. So, one might never know where the bullet he shot actually went.

But that needn’t darken their prospects. It was over, done for, even if in his bitterness, he had added it to the long list of what he had done to get the love of this woman, without return.

Yet, now, it was returned…

“To an equally greedy man,” She replied, interrupting his thoughts. “For each scheme of your own, I want to be in. Or at least know of it. I don’t want to wake up one day, and hear you were arrested by surprise.”

“I suppose I have to agree,” He paused. “Though I don’t want to upset you…”

“I’ll be upset anyway, so it’s better if I know,” She said softly. “If we are so alike, as you said we are, I want us to be partners. I can handle it. You know I can.”

His grin broadened, and he forgot his earlier dark thoughts. Yes, indeed, he knew of it. These last months had proved it, and if he at first at tried to give her only little missions that would bring her closer to home, he now had to admit she was a very valuable partner.

Why think of the past, when the future seemed bright? They had already lost so much time doing so.

“I know,” He replied tenderly. “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way, my dear.”

“No adventure without me.”

“No adventure without _me_.”

She grinned. “Then it’s settled.”

“Really?” He quipped. “What a shame. I was about to add some scandalous ones.”

“You already are scandalous by yourself.”

He shrugged.

“True enough. I believe it’s better to keep it a surprise,” His eyebrows wiggled in jest. “So, how do you suggest we seal the deal?”

“A kiss?”

“Mmm… No, we can do better than that.”

He said, a mischievous smile on his sensuous lips, and she feared the worst, especially when he pulled her to him, lifted her skirts and disappeared under it.

She let out a yelp, then shivered. 

The devil knew exactly what he was doing, and she felt helpless against the sharpness of his tongue and the strength of his hands as he caressed her, teased her, his lips letting out sweet words mixed with scandalous ones that added to the thrill of that tension that was building, like the kindling of a fire on a rainy day.

Her hat fell back miserably, and she took no notice of it.

Oh, he was kneeling, but then why did she feel like he was the one holding the power? Her own body did not even reply to her, but to him, and she was powerless to calm the raising flow in her.

Her knees buckled, and she was about to fall. 

“Rhett…!” She cried, and he understood immediately her meaning as he caught her.

She sat on his lap, sliding the helm of her skirt down his body to cup his face and kissed him, hungrily, not even caring if he had still the taste of her on his lips. He groaned through it, his hands pulling her close to him by her waist, before one escaped to squeeze her tender buttock through the cloth and give it a little slap.

“Rhett!” She berated him, though her eyes darkened considerably.

“That’s for keeping me waiting, my charming, very spankable little pest,” He retorted, stealing another kiss, before chuckling as her hips swayed under his touch. “You’re a mess.”

“You’re the one making a mess out of me, Captain Butler,” She hissed. “Now fix it.”

“With pleasure.”

She felt him fiddle eagerly with the button of his pants, the junctions causing trepidations on the fabric of her dress, and the sensitive skin underneath. Oh, she swore he was doing it on purpose! 

He leaned in, but she hummed, pushing him with two fingers and a lazy smile.

“Mmm. No, I’ve changed my mind.”

She let herself fall between his legs, and his eyes widened as she found what she was searching for.

“By God, Scarlett…”

But God had nothing to do with it as he pressed her closer, entirely under her power, and she relished in it. This time, she was the one leaving him breathless and shaking through her kisses and caresses, the one in control, and she took her time with it.

“How…?” He said, and his expression, filled with desire, darkened with a maddening jealousy, a suspicion, just like she had the first time he had done it to her.

Now, it did not matter where he had learned it. It was the past, and she had learned that imagining these other women touching him, and he touching them would not make her happy. 

It was his time to understand it. 

“You did it to me, I do it to you,” She said simply, defiantly as she went to his level. No other woman would make him feel like that. No other man made her feel like that. She shook at the feeling taking over her, the shared vulnerability. Her voice trembled as she continued, but it felt like a war she had already lost. “Break my heart and I’ll cut yours.”

With shaking fingers, he lifted her chin, and caressed her lips lightly, with the tip of his fingers. She blinked under a daze, then closed her eyes under his tender touch. She leaned in, numb with love, intoxicated by his taste, his scent all around her, and soon his lips that caught hers feverishly.

“Rhett, I have…” She protested slightly.

“I don’t care,” He said abruptly as he gathered her against him and kissed her possessively once more, his arms tight around her shoulders as she held on to him like she would a lifeboat after a shipwreck. “You’re mine. Mine… Say it…”

“I am mine…”

A snap of laughter answered her, and she grinned. Yet, the grin changed as he entered her with a strong blow, her lips taking the shape of a circle, her lashes fluttering.

“Pity, Scarlett… You have too much. I’m already yours…”

She held on to him, cursing that thick vest on his shoulders preventing her to dug his skin with her nails.

“Oh, Rhett…” She moaned. “Why do you need me to say what you already know?”

His lips went then to her cheek, her forehead, then her eyes, her chin, and she gasped at the intensity between them, her heart beating with trepidation. She cupped his face to kiss his lips again.

Her fingers fumbling with his plastron, she kissed his throat, the salt of it burning her lips pleasantly as she decided she wanted more of it, and licked.

“Scarlett…” His voice drawled with a thicker accent than before. His fingers were buried in her hair, messing with the bun she had made, and she hummed, the sound becoming a growl as she felt his pulse under her tongue. “Come here, darling…”

She gasped “You know I am. Yours, only…”

“Say it… Oh, say it…”

“Rhett… Yes, here… Harder…”

She knew he did not mean that, but then she meant to make him wait a little longer, and to get more of him before that… He could see it with the mischievous corner on her lip held up.

“You, infuriating woman… You’re going to make me beg one more time?”

“Mmm…” She moaned. “Greedy man. I’ve already said it too many times…”

“Not today, when you’re finally coming home… Not when…” Oh, how he needed to hear it, before laying his heart, his secrets at her feet! How he wanted to keep the memory of her voice saying these words, if after hearing it, she decided to leave again! His pace quickened, and she shrieked in reckless abandon. His voice was urgent, almost croaky. “Oh darling! Say it, say it, say it!”

“I love you!”

It all went blank around them as they felt like falling down a cliff, with nothing to hold but each other.

He let out a delighted, loving laugh. His embrace, which had been fierce, became softer, tenderer as he buried his nose on the crook of her neck, his hand grasping at the roots of her disheveled hair.

She pouted. “You’re the devil.”

He chuckled.

“And I love you too, my charming adventuress in dancing shoes. I take it I can take you to hell with me?”

And it was with a delight he heard her reply. “Fiddle-dee-dee. If this is hell, then I’m glad I sinned.”

She smiled lazily, stretching with the luxury of a cat after a good nap.

“Is that how you treat your new governess, you pirate? Then I better watch out.”

“Oh, my darling, I believe you will never have to,” He pressed her against his heart, his eyes closed in bliss. “By God, I’ve missed you.”

She hummed in return, too overwhelmed with her own emotions.

Oh, she was so emotional, these days! How very frustrating!

“Scarlett...!” He whispered, pushing her softly to cup her face and check on it. His brows furrowed in concern as his thumbs grazed the wetted trails. “Are you crying?”

“We found our way back,” She said it with a wide, heartfelt smile, tears trickling down her cheeks. “We did…”

“Yes, we did.” He grinned, but affected a serious expression as he kissed her brow. “Now, don’t you even dare think of going on an adventure on your own ever again. No more little English lords or others to sharpen your claws, they are already sharp enough.”

“I have enough of adventures for a lifetime. Being a wife to you is already a tough one by itself,” She teased, before pondering suddenly, her fingers playing with the hair on his chest. “Though…”

“What, my dear?”

“It did not take a million nights to get us back.”

“Honey, don’t you even dare.” He retorted with amusement. “I never thought you’d take it as a challenge.”

“What am I to say? I tend to take your words by the letter,” She said with a wide smile. “And by the way, wasn’t it supposed to be a thousand and one, if we had to be correct?”

He chuckled. “I knew you did not know the reference. I have to admit at that time, I thought one thousand and one may seem quite a short period to you, and it would give you more hope and eagerness to… well, chase me…”

She hit him flat on the chest, offended.

“You scoundrel, you would have been angry if I hadn’t!”

“Ouch. I suppose it’s true,” He shrugged, before catching her ready hand and kissing the palm of it, a light dancing in his eyes. “I would have been… quite piqued if you hadn’t tried. Yet… I needed time and space to figure out how to come back on my own terms. So, I guess I may have exaggerated a little.”

“Little, you say?” She protested. “Great balls of fire! Just say you wanted to make it as though I wore you out, and you had no choice but to give in to me!”

“That,” He teased. “And then, a million nights roll better on the tongue.”

“You are a scoundrel.”

“Oh, do you care?”

“Well, now I know never to trust every little thing you say as a holy word,” She jested. “You can be too contrarious and say such exaggerated things sometimes.”

His laugh rang in the room and fell back, warm and comforting like an embrace.

“A wise choice, my dear,” He said. “Though I do hope you will listen to me sometimes.”

“Oh, I will. Just as you will with me. Isn’t it what partners are supposed to do?”

“Very much so.”

“And anyway, I believe if you really want me to listen, you will repeat it until I have no choice to do so.”

“True enough.”

She paused, and he put an errant strand behind her ear, trying to meet her eyes. 

“It seems my journey has ended. So….” She pursed her lips in an attempt of a disinterested pout, yet that was betrayed by her stretching lips, the dimples that were about to be shown, and the eager light of her eyes. “Am I deemed… worthy of that new work?”

He grinned, caressing the outline of her thigh with a wandering finger.

“We shall certainly try with what we have.”

“So… may I return home?” She insisted with the sudden, almost shy expectation of a prodigal child. “Truly?”

Am I welcome? Really welcome? Was really on her lips.

Was that even a question? He thought.

“You’re the queen of it, foolish woman. It had always been yours to take,” He paused, before saying softly. “But before that… Come, Scarlett. You’ve asked to know my secrets. It’s time you learn what kind of man you’ve chosen… And decide if you still want him in that home…”

She was about to protest, yet he shushed her with a kiss, uncertain, almost fearful. As if he feared losing her again. He gathered her into his arms, and whispered all his secrets in her ear with a deep, sometimes shaky voice. His embrace tightened at the most dangerous parts, but at no moment did she shudder, or try to leave. She stayed still, listening, nothing betraying what she felt in her usually open face.

And when it was done and he would not meet her eyes, she pushed him down a little to see his face, and cupped his cheek. There was a loving smile on her face, and he knew that, without pity nor false kindness, she accepted all of him, his past, present and future. His moments of braveness, of cowardice, of cruelty and generosity. The good and the bad, she took it all, and welcomed it without judgment. There, he had the confirmation of what his guts had always told him about her: she was the only one able to do so, love him wholly without blinding herself to his faults. She was his match, and he was hers, and now they were inches from true, lasting happiness.

Of course, they would quarrel again. They were not peaceful people, and they thrived in conflicts. Yet, these conflicts would not destroy them. They would rise again, stronger than they were before.

In him, he felt a wide opening, easy as pushing a door without lock.

He let out a blissful smile, lighter than she had ever seen it, and that warmed her heart as he tidied himself and helped her raise with him. “Welcome home, my darling. Come, the children are waiting.”

Her skirts fell back on her body like a tender whisper in the night, and he followed their descent hungrily.

Yet, her attention was elsewhere, and soon enough, he saw a little anxiety in her gestures, and in the ever-moving green of her eyes.

“I need a glass before.”

He nodded and filled her one, watching with fascination as she gulped it down without a breath, her cheeks reddening.

He chuckled at her apprehension. “Ready?”

“… yes.” 

She took a step forward with much bravado, but he could see she was still shaking. 

“Shh, not so fast, love,” He took her in his arms and kissed her quickly, his warm hands soothing on her cheeks. “It’s going to be alright, Scarlett. They love you. They’re going to be thrilled to have you back.”

She stared at him, then nodded, and he saw some of it disappearing. 

Yet, her hand still gripped his. 

He led her home, whispering quietly to her on the way, yet he saw that she was not paying attention, not even to the beauties in front of them. He kissed her clasped hand, and she attempted a smile as the door of the house closed behind them.

“Fa…”

Scarlett stiffened, and Rhett smiled in amusement. Just the little devil they thought of. The boy had been waiting with a disapproving frown, wanting to argue against the necessity of a governess, with little Ella at his side to prove his point, and now it seemed he was about to have more than he had expected. 

He seemed about to run towards his mother, but then he froze in hesitation.

“Mother…” He said in awe, before gulping. 

Scarlett turned slowly her head towards him.

“Did you shoot him?” He said hurriedly with a hopeful little voice that almost broke her heart. “The man that had prevented you to come back?”

“I did not use a gun.”

She almost cursed at the idiocy of that reply, but then Wade grinned widely and hooted, running and jumping to take her into his arms. 

Numbed by happiness and delighted surprise that made her let go of Rhett’s hand, Scarlett did not immediately reciprocate. How far they had come! Where was that fearful boy now, that barely looked at her? Where was her irritation, her impatience ? She blinked away her tears, her eyes meeting those of Ella, glinting with envy and excitement. 

“Mother…” Wade whispered urgently. “Are you home now?”

“… Yes. Yes, I am.”

“For good?” Ella added, her tender heart leaping in the loving green of her eyes.

She nodded shakily, then fell on her knees, and waved her over. Her fingers caressed the ginger locks as the girl joined the embrace, and she kissed them, not knowing if the salty taste on her lips came from her tears or theirs.

“My brave little soldier… My Wade… You’ve been so brave… Ella darling…”

“I’ve always known it!” Ella cried. “I knew you’d come back!”

“Bless you, Ella! Bless your little heart… I am proud, so proud… I’ve missed you so much…” Scarlett cried. “Mama is home, my loves. Mama is never leaving you again...”

And there, watching the scene with tender eyes, Rhett felt his heart melting, the broken pieces with the new ones, until he did not care to see the difference between them. He was becoming whole again, and that was as much exciting as frightening, for the expectations were taking more concrete forms. Now, it was not a matter of her coming back anymore. It was a matter of _living_ together, of making a home out of a house. And it was beginning now.

He met Scarlett’s eyes, and he knew she felt the same. 

They were both in it for this one. What had once been separate forces, each trying to bring the other down, was now slowly merging, as it always should have been.

Some things were yet new and testing, the ground still quite shaky and unsure. Troubles still laid ahead, some not noticed yet, others not entirely buried yet. Yet, they were ready to take the risk again.

This time, they played on the same team, two players who had mastered with time and hardships the game and knew everything of the other, with both their hearts on the stake. And it seemed they had the best combinations in hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least five chapters to go, and an epilogue… I think some of you will guess what will happen next 😊
> 
> I promise happy, carefree moments in the next chapter. Let’s them take a break a little, shall we?


	40. Chapter 40

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone, and happy Valentine's Days to you! I hope you are taking care of yourself and your loved ones.
> 
> Here’s one chapter, and I hope you will like it.
> 
> Good reading!

This was the moment for reunions, and once Scarlett found Rhett and the children again, there was another she was apprehending. She had talked to Pansy about it. Yet, the subject was delicate, and she could see her friend was reluctant, and her statements were sometimes contradictory, conflicted, and it was difficult to know the truth from it.

One thing was sure: there were two Tara: one that belonged to the dreams of her childhood, and one, forbidden, jealously kept, that she had barely glimpsed.

Prissy, for all her good soul, could not really tell her about it. Scarlett could see it, especially since she was charged with the care of the two orphans. She was glad Rhett had made sure her former servant could find a house of her own, and continued to help her. It was one good deed she was not sure she would have known exactly how to proceed.

Yet, stayed Pork. Gentle, loyal Pork, who had known her father before Tara, had assisted him in the building of it, and stayed until the end bound to the family like a true guardian angel. Pork, discrete, left behind without a thought, yet always remembered in the end, so indispensable.

He deserved more than that, Scarlett knew it, and she was determined to give it to him, if only she could have answers to her questions!

After the children were tucked into bed, she gestured Rhett to wait for her, and he understood. That time of the evening had always been Pork's to take, when he could allow himself a break, and the indulgence of a cigarillo, which now had been provided regularly by Rhett who knew of this habit. It was a time when, at Tara, he used to tell stories to the children of the house, and Scarlett remembered with aching fondness the moments when, as a child, she had forced little Carreen out of her bed to hear some.

Suellen was never asked, for Suellen would always tell.

A memory long forgotten with the horrors of wars, but that now came back with a sting.

Silently, her steps hesitant yet light, she went outside, in the terrace where she found him leaning on a balustrade, his right foot pressing one of the middle wooden bar. She waited a little for him to notice her, unsure how to proceed.

But when he turned back, she had no doubt.

"Ah done know it, Miss Scarlett!" His brown, loving eyes were alit and he opened his arms. "Ah knew you be alive! Ah… Ah felt it! In mah own old bones, Ah done knew it!"

With a smile, she jumped in, feeling like a child again, and cried with joy. Laughing fondly, Pork lightly tapped her back and told her not to, but it only worsened, and soon, he began to cry as well.

When eventually, the crying jag stopped, they settled on the steps of the terrace, and watched the stars quietly, thinking of a place where they used to shine so bright.

"Tell me about Tara, Pork," She finally said.

"Wat do ye want me to say bout Tara, Miss Scarlett? Ye know everiting bout Tara."

"No, I don't. Tell me about the Tara you did not want me to see. The Tara that did not belong to the O'Haras."

He looked at her a long time in a long, thoughtful gaze and told her. He told her about his dreams, about his life as a slave in the previous plantation he worked in, how he was whipped, his friends tortured and left without a will of their own. He told her about how he tried to escape, and how his intelligence had not escaped his previous owner, who intended to use him, and how he managed to trick him into putting his life on the stake one fortunate day when Gerald O'Hara was looking for a home and for a dream as well. He told her of his plans of using the naivety of that Irish immigrant, to make sure some of his friends and family lived a better life in a plantation of their own, that they could control as they wished. Gerald O'Hara would be a foil, he thought, and for him to be a better foil, he needed a wife that would give him more credibility in that role. A man that would think of himself as a slave-owner, but that would be just a puppet on strings.

It saddened Scarlett to hear her father being described like that, and she almost protested. But then, she could feel the affection in Pork's tone, and she realized there was more to come in the story. So instead, she asked softly:

"And what about Mother?"

"Ye mother be a go'd woman. She be born slaver, and stayed slaver, cannot blame her for being born so. A go'd woman though she be dat, but sad, so sad. She be needed for de illusions, as dat scoundrel Wilkerson, and in return, we done make show of obeyin' her, kept her illusion alive. She be go'd. If she remarked aniting by it, she never said.

"Yet, an illusion, we did live in one. We done tink it was better, a clever trick. Yet, in de end, we be still slaves, acted like slaves, dough tinking we be not. De world be still de same, even if dere be no chains. Dat's what we seen wen yer fader once whipped a boy for his horse. It be… like shatterin glass…"

He gulped a moment, caught in the remembrance, then continued.

"Wen he did dis, Ah done wanted to kill him. Yet, he be lookin at me wit horror, and dat was wen Ah knew. He be never manipulated. He done know it. And wen dat oder boy escaped and be almost found, and dat he be talkin for him… Dat's when ah know he be mah friend, not just de hollow master Ah wanted him to be."

Scarlett's mind buzzed like a bee without a hive. All that she thought she knew, the foundations that she had thought unbreakable, yet that she had felt with time crackling and deteriorating… There was no denying no it was a ruin, if it had ever existed. An illusion, when she had mocked again and again those that lived in it.

Little by little, the words came to her, at first without a sense at all, before the connections were slowly made, and she tried to get rid of that feeling of powerlessness that was taking over her. She should have asked Rhett to be there with her, she thought. She would have been stronger. He would have known what should be done.

She wondered what her father would have done. What would he have done to Pork, the slave that helped him get the life he wanted?

What was the right thing to do?

Land is the most important thing, Pa used to say. Yet, now, that land was not hers to give, even if it felt right. Pork was family, after all. However, he wasn't her only family.

"I shouldn't have given Tara to Suellen. I should have…"

"No, Miz Scarlett, it be no use. I no wat you be tinking. But Tara be gone now. Tara… Twas a dream, long gone, tainted wen ah tought it kudent and Ah kain turn back. I kain turn back and see dem, agin, and tink, why I be not wit dem? But it never be wat it was before. You kain give it to me. It be a poisoned gift, widout de friends Ah done make in de way."

"Then what do you want, Pork?"

"Ah done want to see mistah Gerald's doter be happy. So den Ah can tell mah friend she be happy, and Ah was ever so good ter mah promise."

"Oh, Pork!"

She cried in his arms, and it was like her Pa was dead again. Or, now that she thought of it, as if she had discovered she had another father, and learned he was dying at the same time.

A little later, remembering Pansy's words, and the wishes of independence expressed in the many meetings they had gone, she suggested to offer him a house or at least money to buy it as he wished, that would be his alone, and his wife's, if she ever wanted to join her husband again. Yet, the offer was refused most violently, and Pork and Scarlett felt distraught for days, the first thinking she did not want him there anymore, and the other for being rejected when she thought she was doing something good. It took much of Rhett's diplomacy and patience for the two to set things straight again, but it was only later Scarlett understood her mistake.

After she told him, Rhett said it was no use, and that she had to respect his wishes, and not impose what she thought was right to others. He chose his fate, her lover told her, and now it was her burden to carry, that man who linked his happiness to hers, to them. It was now their duty, as a family, to preserve the tranquility of that old, clever man who had wanted to build a utopia by using the fortune and the naivety of a white newcomer, found a friendship instead, and now wanted to spend his last days peacefully, taken care of by his friend's daughter. What might seem like chains to some may not seem like that to others.

'Like love,' She said then, and he looked at her with soft eyes.

'Yes,' he replied, 'Like love. And the old man does love you, Scarlett. It would be a cruel thing to send him away if he doesn't want it."

She nodded and smiled, leaning more into the embrace of the man she loved.

Their life was beginning, and it was high time she was making her own part in that house. Happiness was her new mission, and she was determined to succeed.

…

It was with the utmost curiosity New-Orleans learned Mr. Rhett Butler, infamous adventurer and known hedonist, had finally found the governess he was looking for. The suspense was at its peak, and the idle young men of the city, bored with the lack of activity of the last few days, found themselves quite intrigued by the discretion of such an affair, that had been displayed so openly before. Some of them had sisters that had tried and failed, and now these sisters were also dying to know the fortunate (or rather unfortunate) chosen one.

Then, the Butler's Hearth, as had been baptized the house the captain bought, finally opened for a party everyone would remember.

After all, now that that poor (though not in terms of money, thank God!) widower did not have to take care of the children on his own, he was free to find new bonds and the one he would choose may prove to be very, very fortunate indeed.

And how handsome he was, how strongly-built and good-natured he seemed, with that pleasant smile on his face! Really, these persons that had said he seemed cruel and mocking hadn't seen him like that!

Then entered the governess in question. Miss Catherine Bertha.

She was very… ordinary, some tried to say, though they did not manage to persuade themselves of it. She was wearing a very lovely (too lovely for a common governess) two-piece ball gown of deep, vibrant green silk with trims in black velvet ribbons and little motifs delicately sewn at each side, complimenting the thin waist and the hips. On the subtle decolletage, there was a lovely emerald brooch that glinted like a wink.

But what were even more striking was her vibrant green eyes and her naturally red lips in a very expressive and charming face that seemed ready to laugh at anything that would be said to her.

By seeing her, one young man swore very much spontaneously she could wear curtains for all he cared, for it would suit her anyways.

There, some swore they saw an amused smile on both the employer and the employee, as if they shared a joke of their own. But it had to mean nothing. After all, the girl was there for a week.

Another surprise came when they realized the widower's adopted daughter tended to call her new governess "mama". But then, the matrons and tender-hearted girls shook their head in fond pity. The girl needed a mother, and Mr. Butler had a long dissolute past. It was time for him to finally settle down.

After all, once married, it would be easy to be obeyed and visibly adored by these children, if even that little governess could do it as she did consistently through the party.

What was also very surprising was the tender familiarity between her and the black servant. But then some observed cheekily that the low ones tended to stay with the low.

Yes, it was a good party, with many food and drinks, and good music, and these little havocs that were still very convenable, like a little group deciding to try on a costume contest.

And then came the waltz, and it was where hell went loose.

Because then, Mr. Butler did not invite any of the young ladies that craved to do so with him. Oh, no.

He invited his governess.

And with (calculated, some peahens said maliciously) modesty and surprised, she accepted.

More shocking after that was the revelation that they danced divinely together, as if they had done it their own life. There was a sort of savage sensuality in that dance, yet softened by grace and what seemed to be a tender complicity.

But it could not be that. It was a governess, for God's sake, some persons said. New-Orleans was certainly quite dissolute during the summertime, and it was generally accepted, but they were not there to stay, and anyway, it was not the season!

The young women in age and their mothers, and some widows in search of a new husband to add to their list, were very much irritated by that little governess who did not know her place, who should have stayed in the shadows, and let their better in ranks stand out. Another one of these governesses who tried to seduce their employers. One had to stand up to her and protect the poor Captain Butler of such a harpy.

Yet, soon, many young bucks declared themselves enamored with that new, incredibly attractive governess, who hid a passion unlike any other behind a demure and modest appearance, and swore they would protect her from that old satyr of Rhett Butler.

Yet, seeing them together, one had to wonder who the hunter was, and who was the prey in the game they were playing. Or if there was any at all.

…

"One… Two… Three…"

Counting loudly, her head resting on the tender bark of a tree, Scarlett… Oh, pardon, Miss Catherine Bertha listened with a smile at the eager steps of her children on the grass behind her, and the little gasps of Ella who, excited by the game, seemed to have forgotten how to breathe properly.

Oh, to be able to play with them outside! To discover places in that new home, like that little paved way bordered by cypresses, that led to a lovely belvedere, or that tiny pond with clear green water and lovely white flowers raising their heads to the sun as if to say hello!

So many places to hide, to see, and feel…

And Rhett being in his office, working supposedly on some business for the bank.

Work, work and always work! And here, she thought he wanted to be with her!

No, it was unfair to think so, she corrected herself. She might be disappointed, but she could see now it was not really because of him. She admired his cunnings, admired his successes with as much fierceness as if they were her own. It was because of her own envy. She too wanted to work. She loved her children, she really did. But she missed the thrill of one business well done in the morning, the satisfaction of knowing she earned her money through her cunnings. She missed knowing that money would make her folk live, and live well, and that if one day she found herself alone, she might be able to continue living.

But it was fine. It was very fine. She would bide her time.

Though she was not very patient.

Needless to say, Scarlett felt very much like a child again, and wanted to take advantage of it. Over were the rainy days, the doubts and the fear! She would live, and love, with her children and her man.

"Ready or not, here I come!"

Thus, began her chase. But as she was about to begin by the sweet odorant bushes of magnolia that bordered the house, two arms caught her, and she shrieked in surprise, before realizing whose arms it was.

"Let me go, you brute!"

"Brute? I'm not the one hitting you," Rhett laughed, trying to avoid her wrathful claws. "Oh, and you _do_ scratch!"

"Serve you right, for surprising me like that!... Oh, Rhett!" She giggled. "I thought you had to work…"

"It's playtime for me too. And when I saw you, unaware, irresistible prey leaning against a tree, waiting to be caught with her eyes closed and frame lightened by the sun…"

Her hips swayed when she felt his fingers at the hollow of her back.

"That's a pretty picture. But I am supposed to be the one hunting."

"I see that, your attacks are very effective," He commented laconically. "Can't we both do that? Fie, my dear, that won't do."

Tables turned quickly as he raised and tipped her over. She let out a surprised squeal.

"And what if I say I'm the panther that catches the pretty huntress unaware?"

He leaned in, kissed lightly her cheek, and put his own on hers, his breath warm against her ear.

"What if I say that you're a panther too, my mate, and that it's the season, my love… why not letting nature take its course, then?"

He skidded kisses along her jaw, and she thought she could see tiny sparkles glistening down her fluttering black lashes.

"Mother!"

Rhett sighed loudly, while Scarlett moaned in embarrassment and frustration, her cheeks red and eyes glinting darkly.

"Oh, I do remember hearing that cry once. Am I to be always thwarted by Wade Hampton?"

She smiled.

"The poor darling wants to protect his mother from scoundrels, that's it."

He nuzzled his face against her, humming thoughtfully.

"Scoundrel meaning me."

"Of course, meaning you."

"They have to learn to share."

 _"You_ have to learn to share."

His laugh went out of his indecent, sensuous lips like a disease, and she was soon very caught up with it.

"What's the good of being middle-aged if I can't be selfish once in a while… why are you laughing ?"

"You doing as if you've waited to be middle-aged to be selfish!"

"Oh, you little…"

He was about to tickle her, but then came the unfortunate revelation that they were not quite alone anymore.

The children, alerted by their mother's cry, had left their hideout, and had run towards them.

Wade was the first to realize what they may find, when he saw a hint of Rhett's shoe coming from the bush. Blushing, he tried to divert his younger sister, but to no avail.

"Go back, Ella. They're being disgusting again."

"Oh? Disgusting how? Like that book in daddy's library?"

Alerted, Scarlett pushed definitely Rhett from her and dusted her dress as she emerged from the bush. She glared at Rhett, who she saw with envy managed to appear still elegant and dignified, as if nothing had ever happened.

"Don't tell me you let Ella go through your library?"

"Well, it seems my governess can't seem to prevent them from looking at them."

She tilted her chin upward.

If she had to be honest, and Rhett certainly knew it, she was not really the best of governesses, or at least when one had to consider what governesses were supposed to do. Too many times, she had stopped the class short for a long, very long playtime outside. Especially the Literature class, that she found very much boring. But then, who could blame her? She had so many things to catch up with her children, and she was not about to spoil the mood by cluttering their mind with things they may never have use of anyway.

"I must say in her defense she's been very distracted lately. The trouble of having such a bully as employer."

And to her defense, he was incredibly talented in making her forget everything that was not him.

"Bully, me?" He put on an air of outrage and, leaning toward her, whispered in her ear, his low, purring voice with the accent of Charleston thickened by desire sending thrills like little ants going down from the lobe to her spine. "Come here, vixen, and see how I bully you…"

"Mama! Wade pulled my hair!"

"That's not true! She's a big liar!"

"I'm not big!... And I'm not a liar!"

Rhett sighed. Scarlett laughed lightly, a pleasant laugh from the deep of her throat. She had not the heart to be irritated at them, poor dear things.

"Children…" Rhett began.

"Wade, stop this right now, and Ella, come here, you're all dirty now!"

She fussed over her daughter, but there was nothing to do about the big green stains that were all over her dress. And in the end, the roles were reversed as Ella inspected her mother.

"Oh, mama, you're all disheveled, with leaves all in your hair…Was he threatening your honor, mama?" Scarlett's little girl smiled widely and turned to her brother, with sparks in her eyes. "Then Wade, you must defend it!"

Scarlett shook her head in apparent disapproval, but her grin, too wide, announced already a laugh.

"Yes, Wade. I do believe you must," Taking two wooden sticks on the ground, Scarlett's man threw one to his son and took the pose. "En garde!"

Wade's eyes glinted as he mimicked the man who had always been his father in more ways than one, and even more.

To him too, the childish, happy atmosphere seemed to have taken a hold of him, and it gave Scarlett joy to see him like that. It felt as if she had never seen him that happy, and knowing she was the cause of it was very much a delight by itself.

They made quite a show of a dual, until finally, frustrated with Rhett's many dodging, Wade decided he had enough and charged with a battle cry, hitting him square on the chest. The body of the older man fell suddenly, and Scarlett faltered as she heard the sound of it on the floor.

"Rhett!"

"Daddy!"

Her heart leaping, she jumped at his side, noting with distress his closed eyes and lack of response to her touch and voice.

At her right, Wade was shocked, and trembling.

"I… didn't want to…"

Scarlett was about to reprimand him, but then, she was swiftly interrupted by a loud laugh coming from the very man she was worrying about.

"Wade, son, I think it's time you finally take some lesson in fencing. That coup was a little clumsy, but it has potential."

Scarlett huffed and hit him.

"Oh, you scoundrel! You're not even hurt!"

Rhett laughed, his arms around girl and woman, and brought them down with him.

"Ella," He said tenderly. "What if you picked some flowers to bring back in the house? Wade could protect you in the way from the bad wolves…"

The girl's eyes widened in fear. "There are wolves?"

"Yes," He continued, and Wade glared at him, seeing he would have no choice but to look after his sister. "But only Wade can make them go away."

And so began their mission, with Ella, so very full of energy and a very grumpy older brother who mumbled about the inconvenience of parents.

Rhett sat straighter on the grass, enjoying the slight burn of the sun on his skin.

"I do believe Little Ella finally caught some of your mischief, my dear."

"How you do run on. I'm not dramatic enough to suggest a duel. That must be your part."

Humming lovingly, she rested her head on his lap while he caressed her hair idly. The dark strands had grown again, the smaller ones at her back reaching her shoulder blades, allowing her to equalize just as it was decent to do. In later years, she might say what decided her to go back to normal life was the length of her hair, allowing her to play the lady, she thought with amusement.

"By the way, dear, I made quite the discovery this morning, in the newspaper."

"Fiddle-dee-dee. You always told me it was a bad thing to read the newspaper."

"Generally yes. I do prefer when you don't read it, dear, for then it would give you ideas in your head, and I don't like the idea of you being tortured by so-called existential questions."

"Just say you prefer I think only of you and what I can do to make you happy."

"I prefer you think only of me, and be happy with me, that to be sure. It certainly is easier," He grinned as he handed her the newspaper he had kept in the pocket of his jacket. "Though this new may satisfy your vanity."

At first, she could not understand why he was showing her the section about the book reviews. Trying to understand, she read a few words, but was soon enough bored by the grandiloquence of it, with the many references and complicated words in Latin and German.

Kelsey A. Whils. What a boring name anyway.

With a grin and armed with a pen, Rhett pointed the letters of the name and changed their places. Ashley Wilkes.

Her eyes widened.

"My dear, it seems your little gamble had paid off, actually."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," She said innocently, though her grin was far too satisfied for that. "But it seems that Kelsey A. Whils finally found something he was good at." She straightened, her lips stretching even more. "Come on, say it, Rhett. I was right and you were wrong."

"I wouldn't go that far. There's still time to prove me right."

"You infuriate me."

"I'm certainly glad to know it works."

There was no arguing with him, for he always knew how to charm his way into his heart, and make her forget she was ever angry with him.

But then again, she had learned that too, to his misfortune.

She once saw him flirting with a rich and pretty widow, that had loudly remarked governesses were stupid and useless anyway, a work for spinsters that had no charms for themselves.

He'd laugh at her when she remarked on it, jealous and very much offended by that comment, but laughed a little less when few times after, he saw her coming back home after a day of shopping with almost an army of enamored young bucks carrying her bags while she was fluttering sweetly her lashes at them.

When he remarked on it later, she said very innocently that they were no gentlemen, yet that he should be proud of such a charming wife that could still attract so many, just like she was proud to be the woman of such a handsome scoundrel. At that, he only could nod with an amused smile, and urge her inside.

…

Certainly, Miss Catherine Bertha was a mystery.

Offers of marriages came for her, but she would always refuse with an air of sincere confusion, telling them she thought of them as the young brothers she never had, and wished she had. Many, she sent to other girls, and in return, the matriarchs who benefitted from it began to see her in another way.

After a time, it became very much obvious to the most serious and practical ladies of New-Orleans that the women available and very willing to marry Captain Butler had no chance, especially with the last fiasco of the widow who tried and was quickly turned down. They would have to count on that petite and charming woman in the long term, and why not, take her under their wing.

It did not hurt that the young woman seemed to have good sense and gave good ideas about businesses that surprised the ones that had had to learn it and still struggled with it during their few encounters.

Of course, it had to come from Captain Butler. He was known to be quite good at it, after all, so it had to be his influence.

Thus came into the mind of some of the matrons that maybe it was a good idea to push her into her employer's arms, so that then, he would be much more easier to persuade to help.

And what a delightful scandal it would bring!

This was why Miss Catherine Bertha was quickly invited to a sewing session, and, to her surprise, discovered the Secret Association of Working Ladies, or SAWL.

…

"A Secret Association of Working Ladies!" Rhett laughed in the haven of their bedroom when she came back in the evening. "So, this _is_ your new project! Why the secret?"

"You're a skunk," Scarlett complained lightly, her arms around his shoulders as she sat on his lap. "You say that because you're a man, and it's always easier for men to do it."

"I don't deny it. But I do believe that whole "secret" is more that they like working, yet they do not dare to tell it to the world, and prefer to gather in secret for the thrill of thinking themselves superior."

"Maybe so," She grinned. "They want me to seduce you, so that you can give me more pieces of advice that would help them."

"Oh, because you're still making them think it is me that is giving the advices?"

"Well, you do help, sometimes," She teased, before shrugging. "And I suppose they think me seducing you would lead you to give more money and contacts, of course."

"Oh? And how do you intend to do this?"

"Like this…" Softly, she put her lips on the tip of his nose, before following the line of his cheekbone to his ear. "And this…"

He snorted, gathered her close and stroke her cheek.

"Interesting. Though I'm sure you can find other arguments."

As if it was needed. Nevertheless, they each found some of their own, insisted, pressed, argued until somehow they lost their breath, and all that was left was the ached bliss of the aftermath, and their sweaty, naked skins on the bed.

Her head on her lover's chest, Scarlett hummed and rubbed lightly her cheek against him, quite out of arguments, yet still very willing to do so. Below her, Rhett let out a fond laugh, his nose breathing the intoxicating scent of his woman, never quite the same exactly, yet still known intimately by his heart who craved it, relished in its warmth and spice.

"Was it what you thought it would be," She said after a time. "when you said you would have loved me with as much tenderness a man could, if I only had let you?"

"It stayed on your mind a long time, didn't it?" He smirked, before sighing, his nose nuzzling her neck. "No. Not even close. You see, my dear, I never imagined _I_ could be like that. I never thought I could love like that, nevermind that you could. There's… a softness in it I thought wouldn't work with me. And yet… With you, I find that life can be sweet."

With this adventure had come a complicity as there never had been between them, with both being at the same level for the first time, and accepting not to have the upper hand. They found out love was not about who had to surrender and who could claim the victory. It was a battle, yes, but they were on the same side, protecting each other's back, and if victory it was, it was for both of them. They still wore their battle scars, but it was not with bitterness anymore they pointed it to the other. It was with the pride of having survived a war that could have brought them down.

Yes, they had a tougher skin now, but they finally knew what was the more important.

"Strange to me how I've always thought of my love for you as my weakness, my Achilles' heel, and that you were like Delilah, waiting to catch me unaware to unman me, when now that you are here, by my side, I realize you were my strength all along, and that I was afraid to use it."

She looked at him and his faraway eyes, and tilted his head to bring him back to her.

"You've always been my strength, Rhett."

"Not your only one," He said, and he said it as if he regretted it.

"Well, I'm not your only strength too, Mr. Let-me-call-my-dubious-acquaintances-to-fix-it."

He snorted. "And here again you purposely misunderstand. But I guess that's fair. Love should not be something that prevents us from finding strengths through other bonds."

"Depends on these bonds, husband," She insisted, her cheeks puffing red. "Are you rethinking the terms of our deal? If so, then…"

"Darling, strength cannot be found in loveless trysts, and I already have my hands full with you and the children. I don't want to find it anywhere else. You are enough… and more than that."

"So are you," She said contently. She paused, humming softly, trying to make a music out of the beatings of his heart. "Yet… sometimes, I don't feel like I am a strength at all…"

"Oh, you are. But every strength needs to lean on another sometimes. Lean on me, my love."

"I was always leaning on you. You're quite comfortable to lean on, after all."

He chuckled. "Glad to know you like my chest as your pillow."

"Oh, very much so, very much so."

In her, she felt the echoes of her beating heart, strong as a kick in her tummy. It hurt a little, but she felt so happy she did not care.

She slept soundly, and he watched her for a moment. For three days since her return, he had not slept at all, staring at her unconscious form, marveling about her presence at his side. Soon, of course, he had to catch it up, but then it took time for him to get used to it, and there were moments like this when he was still very much amazed.

How he loved her. And she loved him. An eternity of loving her, and now he was loved in return, and could feel this love falling on him freely, without anything to hold them back.

She was sleeping late, these days, and was more fatigable. He knew she was trying not to show this, but he felt it, in the way her body faltered sometimes when she thought he was not looking. She was pale too, sometimes, and there were times when she wasn't really looking where her feet landed. It was something he could not have remarked on their short encounters, when the emotions were too strong, and they only wanted to take advantage of the time they had. But now, they had all the time in the world…

Or did they? The feeling of urgency was still there, in him, and in her too, and he did not really know how to get rid of it.

He dismissed it. He had always worried too much about this woman, and she had always landed on her feet, whether he did something or not.

They had been intimate many a times now, and it felt like they were trying to catch up on the time when they had been apart… No, much longer than that. He had relished in it, that physical intimacy he once thought would never happen but once in a dream, a dream from a time when he felt free and powerful, and she was still the careless and wild Southern Belle, with a childish want glinting in her eyes.

But now, he could see the disaster it would have brought, and the disaster it indeed did. Now, they were on the same page, their writing tightly interlaced, her hand in his, skin against skin.

He had been very prudent. He could not lose her now. He did not think he would survive if he did, and if the past repeated. So many months apart, with few visits they managed to slip by and by… It had prevented from truly thinking about how they would live together, for the more important question was at that time: when?

Their balance was great now: Scarlett and him, and Wade and Ella. Nothing had to change.

Nothing but one thing, that would definitely set the record straight.

He closed his eyes and held her closer, until some strands of her hair tickled his nose.

…

Yet, among all this happiness, there came something that clouded it, when Pansy once arrived, a panicked expression on her face, and announced to Scarlett she was pregnant, and with the wrong man.

The news shocked Scarlett, with a feeling she did not really know how to analyze. As if a candle had been lit once, to be quickly shut down by the wind. Yet, she quickly assured her support, and urged her to talk to Aren, a thing Pansy was not ready to do. On her quick talk, she was trying to say something about the importance of the cause she was engaged in, and how she couldn't stop, and how Scarlett had to keep the secret, or else she did not know what would happen.

That's when Scarlett realized her friend was afraid, completely terrified, and very tired.

Thus a very irritated Rhett came back home with the revelation he had to shelter for a few nights one woman he very much disliked and whose opinion was very important, with the even worst realization that she might monopolize Scarlett, or even try to persuade her into another adventure.

He had to act fast.

…

The first nights, he did not manage it, and Scarlett became even more flippant, which was not to appease him. Especially when he learned she had been wandering around with her friend around ill-reputed districts.

What was going on?

…

Scarlett was tired, and very much distraught. She had accepted to accompany Pansy to an abortionist. As a support. Because that was what friends did. Or so it seemed. So they had hidden themselves under dark caps and went to it.

Yet, the more she went closer to the building, the more she felt she might faint. From the clean, bright districts she had gone to, she was now wandering in the dirt, and the smell was suffocating.

Pansy said nothing. But when she faced the woman charged with the work, she broke down and changed her mind, and Scarlett had to silently escort her back.

They passed once in front of the Lalaurie house, and she had the displeasing impression of being watched.

To change her mind, she tried to put on a good face and tucked friend and children to bed with a same cheerful voice.

So when she finally faced Rhett who suggested her a night out at the opera, she accepted without actually thinking of it.

She did not even stop to realize that suggestion was made with a more hurried tone than usual.

…

She was waiting Rhett on the box he owned, oppressed by the heat and a tighter than usual corset, when suddenly, she heard the sound of music, and a deep, familiar, excellent bass, that was serenading a certain Catherine.

Oh, yes, she realized after a time. She _was_ Catherine.

She leaned on the balustrade and met the eyes of one Rhett Butler very much satisfied with himself as he strummed a guitar and sang at the top of his voice.

Her heart soared.

"What on earth are you doing?"

He grinned.

"What does it look like I'm doing, honey? I'm trying to compromise you. I do remember once I said I'll stay around here and play a guitar under your window every night and sing at the top of my voice if you ever denied me. I'm not leaving anything to chance now!"

"Deny you? Compromise me? What are you going on about? Fiddle-dee-dee, you've already compromised me with more than a song in the open space!"

She almost slapped herself for her indiscretion. His black eyes twinkled at her.

Oh, why was it so hot in there?

"Oh, yes? Care to enlighten me, Miss Bertha?"

"Oh, you scoundrel…." She waved energetically at him. "Get back upstairs."

He grinned, gave the guitar back to the musicians, and climbed the stairs in a quick, eager way that suffered no obstacle.

It wasn't until later, when he finally faced her, she remembered this threat had been uttered during his proposal of marriage.

But then she shrugged. It was just a silly thing.

"Is here more proper for your selective sense of propriety, my dear?" He said, breaking her track of thoughts.

"I don't know. What are you going on about, exactly?"

That was when he knelt down.

"Marry me."

Here we go, she thought. He had already forgotten the obvious in favor of something more dramatic. Sympathetically, she put her hand on his.

"We're married already, silly man."

"I do believe we quite broke the 'until death does you apart' part, my dear,"

She blinked, froze, then realized.

Oh, indeed, he was playing with her, but then there was something real to it she had not anticipated.

"You mean to tell me you've been… making love to me without us being bound by God? How shameful!"

Amused, he raised an eyebrow at her attempt of a shocked expression, betrayed by the glistening of her green eyes.

"I mean to tell you we've been making love with no other consent than ourselves. Did it feel any different?"

Teasingly, she tipped her chin with a finger, one corner of her lips twitching upward.

"Wait… Now, I'm beginning to remember that somehow I felt something wrong and wicked in it," He tickled her mercilessly, a wide, amused grin enlightening his features. "Alright, alright. No, it wasn't different. How strange… Yet, why are you asking me again, if it doesn't matter?"

"I never said it doesn't matter. It's a way to show to the world than you are mine, and I am yours, that we are united and I do not intend on letting you go again."

His breath was warm on her skin, and she shivered with the contentment of owning and being owned by that man, that she loved with all her heart. He had tricked her a great deal, oh yes! But she forgave him all the same. Her head downward, she looked at him with adoration, not even daring to blink.

"Oh, to be looked by you like that…" He gasped, his throat dry as his fingers grasped the long-awaited box in his pocket. "I want to marry you again. Truly. And I promise to never keep anything from you this time, if you promise you do the same to me. You are my equal, and I want us to be one in this."

Her eyes widened as she looked at the ring he handed her.

It was a magnificent engagement ring, with a pear cut emerald crowned by five paved diamonds that shined at her like a promise of eternal love.

Watching it felt like falling in love again.

"Is this…"

His smile broadened.

"Yes."

She said nothing for a while, frozen in place and time, and he almost thought she would faint. She nodded softly, her mouth quivered, and nodded once again more firmly. Until she could not stop.

"Yes. Yes, yes, yes!"

He laughed and caught her in his arms, as she was about to fall from her chair.

"Had I known I would get such a reaction, I would have done it much sooner!"

"That's your mistake, not mine!"

"Indeed, my dear. Indeed. But not anymore."

She took a step down, admiring the ring.

"Oh, Rhett, do put it on me! How long this darling thing had been waiting in your pocket? How did you…"

Suddenly, she stopped, and narrowed her eyes at him. The green flashed like an angry shooting star, and it made him chuckle.

"It's not glitter, is it? It's true gold."

His smile broadened.

"What do you think?"

"Oh, you rascal!"

"I'm just teasing you, my dear, don't scratch my eyes yet," He said, catching easily her wrathful fists. "Yes, it's the real thing. No trick. I lay bare and true to you. Well… figuratively," He smirked. "But I could..."

"Hush, you scandalous skunk. What if someone sees you?"

"I do think they'd be… impressed. And then it wouldn't surprise me if some curious little ladies are dreaming of me doing so. If we were in a book, I do believe I'll be the rake every woman is lusting after."

"You're so full of yourself I want to scream," He waggled his eyebrows, and she blushed even more in dismay. "Not like that, you skunk."

He snorted, yet it was a poor attempt at concealing the arrival of a bigger fit of laughter.

"Come on, Scarlett, you know you will anyway. So why not skip the opera, where you'll be bored and irritated, and come home, to bed right now, to take advantage of that wonderful little anger you feel for me right now?"

"No. I mean to start this well." She huffed, her pointed chin tilted upward. "And then, it is all you deserve, for… Oh, what were your exact words again? That's the price for being fond of me and getting your big hands on my… Well, I can't say money, can I?"

"No, but I still have my hands on you."

"How you are playing me so! Well, it won't work now, sir! I'll be bored, but you'll bear it!"

He whistled. "Alright, alright, my darling, soon-to-be sleeping snappish beauty, that will have your head soon leaning on my shoulder, your nose buried on my neck."

"I won't!"

"Oh, you will. Either way, what a bliss."

And indeed, in the middle of the show, it seemed he was proven right.

Fondly, he leaned towards her, his finger playing with the strand of hair that was dangling in front of her ear.

"See, I told you you would…"

Yet, she did not respond, and when he shook her lightly, her body fell from the chair like a rag doll.


	41. Chapter 41

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Here’s to you a shorter chapter in which Rhett goes through the five stages of grief multiples times, and faces old demons…. And Scarlett is certainly having none of it.  
> As always, thank you for your wonderful support! Seeing that people read and review the story… well, let’s say it still makes my heart skip a beat when I hear a notification.   
> PS: Did you really think I would leave you with an ending alla Forrest Gump?

Scarlett was quickly sent home with Rhett, not bearing to let her go from his arms, whispering words of comfort that she obviously couldn’t hear. One doctor, by chance also present as he was an amateur of opera and so very much still in an elegant suit, was instantly requisitioned to attend to her, and if he did not dare to refuse such a terrific man, it was still very begrudgingly he was there, and he made a point to show it.

She regained consciousness five hours after on their bed, and looked as if nothing had happened, and she was surprised by the change of context. Swiftly, questions were asked, and she replied to them, and little by little, a frown appeared on the physician’s forehead. He examined her swiftly and nodded.

He waited a long time, eyes on the horizon, put on a pose as he caressed his beard and said the fatal word.

“Cancer.”

There, Scarlett blinked, confused. Rhett lost his composure and froze.

“Cancer?” He repeated numbly. “Of what?”

The doctor waited again, as if for a dramatic effect, caressed his beard a little more. 

“Stomach.”

They looked at him with blank looks, and he took advantage of it to announce his departure, and, as if with a guilty afterthought, he let out a soft sorry. 

The sound of the door seemed to awaken Rhett as he turned to Scarlett, eyes searching, before he broke in a short laugh.

“It’s a scam… It’s another one of your foolish games… How much did you pay that doctor to say such a thing? Darling, you do not need to do so, you only have to ask… Tell me, what do you want? You know I’ll always try to give you everything…”

“Rhett…”

He paled.

“No…” He shook his head violently, running to her as he took her into his arms, and pain stung her as his fingers dug into her skin through the fabric, surely making a mark. “You can’t be taken from me… Not again. I won’t stand for it!”

…

Thus began in Butler’s Hearth a continual coming and going of doctors, many with grandiose titles and specialties. Some very old. Some very young. Some serious. Others laughing nervously. Some not really doctors at all, and Rhett Butler swiftly sent them away once he figured them out. One was roughly thrown out of the house when he said he had to see the young woman naked and alone, with a bottle of Champagne to ease her modesty. 

What was happening with Miss Bertha?

The tongues were running wild. Some said she had not lost her time getting pregnant. Others that maybe she had a chronic disease she had not talked about. 

And then, there were some remains of young and whimsical enamored bucks that swore she was the victim of a tyrant, and that they would get her away from this hell.

…

It went from tumors and cancers to diseases with an exotic name Scarlett did not manage to catch.

Yet, no one could be sure. And the more she saw them, the more Rhett was flippant and controlling and her health seemed to deteriorate. 

And the more she felt like she was wasting her time trying to figure out what it was, instead of being happy with her loved ones. 

Talking about her loved ones… How was she supposed to say it to the children? How could she manage to make them understand, when she herself did not quite know what it was? How to soothe the worry in their eyes, how to prevent the little mouths from trembling, and the tears to fall?

Fortunately, it seemed she did not have to, for one night, they came to her. They came to her, and the story, that nonsensical story she had used as a way to communicate and abandoned like old shoes as she entered the house, returned through their lips, as a ritual of comfort that surrounded them like a blanket.

Robert and Solene had found back their children, but now Solene was sick, stuck to bed, and it was now up to those who loved her to take care of her. 

They understand something is going on, Scarlett realized with surprise. They understand and they are worried and want to comfort  _ me _ !

She found herself melting at their attempt.

Wade described valiantly all the ways they tried, and Ella insisted on the feelings of everyone for the character. In the end, they ended up with tears sticking on their cheeks, sleeping and closely embraced together. 

The children did not even wake when Rhett took them back one by one to their rooms. Yet, when he caressed Scarlett’s cheek, she opened her eyes, and he could not help it. His lips took hers, and he paused for a time, his burning forehead on hers.

“Fight, Scarlett… stay with me…”

“I am with you…” She tried to say, yet his kisses prevented her to say the words. And there again, he continued to say, like a mantra: “Stay, stay…”

His hands began to stroke vigorously her arms from shoulders to wrists, making it almost red.

“You’ll be okay. Cheer up, it’s nothing to worry about. You always land on your feet…”

He froze, and she saw his eyes went even more fearful and absent as his embrace tightened. She let out a sob.

“Sh… It’s going to be alright. It’s going to be alright…” He continued whispering, even more urgently. “There has to be a cure, there has to be…”

“Rhett…”

“I have money, lots of money, and influence. Lots of it. Certainly, it has to mean something in the end.”

“Rhett…” She pleaded. “Stop it. I don’t understand why you hurt yourself like that. I’m the one who has to bear it.”

He stopped, a confused air on his face as if he had forgotten she was here, and could answer back. Then he frowned, his voice thick and deep.

“Darling, you are my heart… Though quite insensitive you can be sometimes. What do I do if my heart is dying? How could you even think you’re the one who has to bear it? How am I supposed to feel?”

She ignored his jibe, for she could see what was behind it.

“How am  _ I _ supposed to feel, when I see you like that?” She quipped. “I’m no Melly to forget myself and comfort you. If I’m dying, I want you strong with me, with the children, not pulling your hair and desperate like that. There’s not only the two of us!”

He said nothing for a while, and she cursed herself, thinking he would not allow himself to be vulnerable with her again. But what could she have said? Seeing him like that broke her heart, distressed her in such a way that sometimes she thought she could not breathe. 

He was holding her too tight, but it was not just that. It was inside her. She felt his fear, mixing with hers, and it ate her little by little.

Finally, after two days bearing it, she decided she would not meet any other physician, and it seemed Rhett had ran out of it from the state anyway, and was very much prepared to send some from others. Yet, she stood her ground, and for a time, he seemed to accept it. 

Until he found another in the city that until then he had not been aware of the existence. 

“I don’t want to see him,” She scolded as he presented it to her, stamping with irritation. “What’s the point? He will tell me things I don’t want to hear.”

And it will make you angry and sad once again, she thought. No, they did not need it.

“Please, my love. Do it for me.”

“And come home with another illness to my list? Fiddle-dee-dee, I have more illnesses in my body now that can be born!”

“So one more, one less, it shouldn’t matter, should it?” He tried to jest, but his voice was too thick. “Darling. Scarlett, my Scarlett, do it for me…”

She shook her head, distraught, his grip on her leaving her breathless.

“You want it to be nothing. You wish there is a mistake, that somehow one of these doctors is going to say it was all a silly joke. But it’s not nothing. And it… hurt and hurt to see all these doctors gathering around me, palping me and looking at me with little feeling but pity and kindness… If I’m going to die…” He paled, and she crumbled. “Oh, I shouldn’t have come back! I should have let you believe I was dead, then all would have been…”

“DON’T SAY THAT,” He shouted, before wincing, his voice weakening. “Don’t ever say that.”

“I was selfish, so very selfish…”

“Please don’t…” He pleaded, taking her into his arms. His hands caressed her hair in a way that was supposed to be soothing, yet that was too hard to be it. “Sh, my love, it’s going to be alright. We will face it, together. You will survive, as you always did. I will make sure you do. It doesn’t matter if in the end you don’t love me anymore. What matters is that you live… Oh, please say you will fight… Say you will fight for me, for the children…”

“I will… Oh, hold me, Rhett!”

“Darling!”

He made love to her as if he was going to lose her. As if he was trying to get rid of the shadow of death on her. He pulled at her, and she pulled at him. A painful pleasure, but a pleasure that meant life, and that left them too exhausted to think.

When by the morning, she saw he had finally gone asleep, Scarlett quietly slipped from his arms and went to the doctor.

On the way, she stopped once in front of Pansy’s door. She knew she could ask her to accompany her. Yet, she felt it was something she had to face on her own. She squared her shoulders, put her cap on and continued her way.

…

As the door of the physician’s office closed behind her, Scarlett felt dizzy and numb.

No tumor. No cancer. Or any strange illness with an unknown name that was even more sinister than the other.

Just nature, and a painful mystery she still had to uncover and which brought back all the insecurities she had.

It was only when she was almost run over by a carriage she felt herself awakening to that fact.

When she came home, Rhett was waiting, sat on a chair, his fingers anxiously tapping on his knees.

“Rhett…” She began, unsure. “I went to see the doctor, as you’ve asked me… And he told me…”

He raised up abruptly, came to her swiftly, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her lightly when she would not give him the answer as quickly as he wanted it.

“What did he tell you? By God, Scarlett, don’t keep me waiting!”

“I’m pregnant.” The words fell in the air with the brutality of a gunshot. “And… it seems it’s been more than four months…”

His hands left her.

He paled. His eyes went vague, and he seemed so far away she thought she was going to lose him. Then, his face reddened, his jaw was tight and his glare ablaze, and she froze, unaware until then she had been about to run to him. Finally, his features cooled down, his black orbs opaque, without any light.

And this was the worst.

His cold voice felt like a slap.

“How? You don’t even show.”

“I know, it’s…”

“You mean to tell me that while you were busy wandering around and trying to kill a man you were carrying a child?”

“That’s not what I did, and you know it!” She retorted, horrified. “And… I did not know!”

His frown deepened.

“How could you not know? How is it you do not show?”

She began to tremble.

“The doctor says it happens. Sometimes, during anxious times… He called it… denied pregnancy… or something like that. A woman does not show, nor is aware of it… Had I known…”

“Had you known, you would have done it anyway, wouldn’t you? Your love for pregnancy and babies is known… Maybe you wanted to keep it from me, because it’s not fun, and you wanted to keep on your little adventure…”

She slapped him.

“Now, you’re being unfair and mean again!” She shot. “I’m not that silly girl who told you she wanted to get rid of a baby. And had I truly wanted it, there would have been no way I would have told you at that time, especially when I was convinced you did not want it as well and you cared nothing for me! You know that!”

She saw the red on his cheek, and her anger fell down, replaced with despair. Her knees gave up under her and, with a cry, she put her face on her hands and cried, and cried. 

“I don’t understand! I don’t understand what is happening… How could I not notice it? Do I not control my own body anymore? I can’t… I can’t…” She mumbled rapidly, choking on her tears. “It is my punishment, isn’t it? Or is it just because of who I am? I’m such a bad woman my own body betrays me and hides it from me! I’m such a bad mother I don’t even notice my own child!”

His eyes widened at her bereavement, and rage left his face, pushed down by a cloud of sorrow and fear, that he could not conceal anymore. He fell on his knees, opened his arms shakily, gently trying to get closer, but she shook her head quickly like a lost little animal.

“Scarlett… Scarlett, come with me…”

She shook her head once more.

“No! No, you hate me now! You think I betrayed you, that I…”

“No, no… Please, darling, come here…”

Suddenly, she raised her chin, a defiant gesture that was like an arrow to his heart.

“But I want it! I do want it! But then why… why didn’t I see? Why didn’t I feel? I should have…”

“Ssh… Please don’t… Oh, my poor love, it is no fault of yours…”

“But you think so!”

“No…” 

He reached out to her, and her body collided with his with the strength of her despair.

“Oh, please, don’t turn away from me again!” She cried. “It makes me think I’m losing you…”

“Never,” He said. But I could still lose you, he thought, distraught. I’m losing you, and yet this new shakes up something in me, and I can’t… Oh, what kind of man am I, to feel it, when I could lose you? “You’re right. I shouldn’t… have talked to you like that. I don’t want to be… mean and unfair to you. I’m sorry.”

“No… Oh, I shouldn’t have brought this up,” She hiccoughed. “I… I want your babies. I want them so much. With Bonnie… I was afraid, and I thought…”

“Are we going to fight about who is the sorriest person in this?” He cut her sharply, unwilling to break again. “Then I refuse to be sorry anymore.”

“You’re a cad.”

“And the word isn’t even enough.”

He said nothing more. Gathering her tightly against her, he thought with anguish he had had more chances than he had envisioned to lose her during these months. She could have miscarried during a difficult situation. She could have been sick at the wrong time. He knew how a second of inattention could mean death if one wasn’t protected. He kissed her, his throat thick with emotion. He kissed her mouth, her nose and salty cheeks, and tried to focus on her warmth, on the vibrancy of life coming from her. 

He tried to think of it, yet no thought came clearly but the raw pain and fear of a loss he had tried so many times to refrain, sharper than ever, and the sound of her body falling down the stairs still ringing in his mind. His voice broke.

“But you… do you want it?” His voice was trembling with something he did not dare to analyze, an old expectation he found himself stupid for having it.

She kissed his fist, tightly wrapped around hers, and sighed contently. He hadn’t said he wanted it, but it didn’t matter. She had faith. He would love it, when he would see it grow. He just needed time, that was all.

Still, the doubt crept out. Maybe it was too early. Maybe all was all too new and fragile, and it would break.

“I want this baby,” She said hurriedly. “I want a boy, just like you, with black eyes and dark skin. I want a little you, that’ll be with me for the times when you decide to go on adventures once again.”

It broke his heart to hear her say that, when it had once been one of his most secret desires.

“I thought we agreed never one without the other?” He nodded, almost amused. “Or maybe you’d like to go on your own? If so, I have to say…”

“Of course not!” She replied, offended. “I have enough of it, of these long times without you and the children…” She gathered his arms around her, her eyes bright with love. “I’ve missed you so…”

“And we’ve missed you a great deal,” He answered softly. “Never do that again. Not without me.”

“ _ This _ is a new adventure. I want to do it with you…” She said rapidly. “If it’s it… If it’s really it… Will you do it with me?”

Yet, she knew it was it. Once the revelation had been done, she had felt a relief, as if she had been carrying a burden, and now she was delivered of it.

“Has it ever been a choice I had to make?”

His voice was weary as he said it.

….

Dr. Peter Hoskins was about to leave his rather precarious office when he realized a couple was still waiting for him. He sighed, worn out and famished.

Old bachelor, he had celebrated his forty-seventh birthday five days ago, surrounded by his team of nurses and fellow physicians. His true family, the only one who had accepted him wholly, and never asked him to change. 

His mother would have wanted him to be famous, to take the reins as the heir of the plantation. Yet, he had given it up to be an obscure, unknown physician, and never had he regretted it. Unknown, he was, maybe, but his work was his life, and a life he took care to open and diversify as much as he could. What little class and conference he could afford, he went, mindful of being able to help his patients as much as he could. 

Yet, there were days when he was tired, and less patient, and when that woman came to him, he was tempted to roll his eyes. Romance had never been for him, when he had heard and saw the most incongruous tales. He had heard of her, heard that she and his employer were quite the talk of the town. Already, it was said by some she would trick him to get the fortune, and in New-Orleans, she was certainly not the first to do so. 

However, he was very professional, and proud to be it. So, he examined her carefully, checked every hypothesis that could be applied to her case, yet, some signs did not lie. 

He had seen women like that, that did not show their pregnancy until it was too late. And from what she said, it had been going on a while. 

And then, there was no pain, no loss of appetite, no atrophied lymph node, no modification of the digestive process… and so on. 

So then came a final test.

From his experience, the reveal of it provoked a colossal effect. It still had surprised him sometimes to see the results of it even some days after, when a thin woman could come back to him with suddenly a very much filled belly. Where could the baby have hidden? He had wondered. Well, it was still quite a mystery to him. 

This woman had paled, then blushed, and her distraught expression made him doubt, but then she laughed, a nervous laugh at first, but then very joyful, tearful to the point of hysterical. And then, she left, as if walking on a cloud.

Now, she was back, but not alone. She had brought back her employer. 

Yet, from what she had said, the changes had been there months before she came to New-Orleans… So, he couldn’t be the father. 

Did she want him to lie for her, so she could trick that tall, dark man?

Peter did not want to do so. He would not play her game. He was too tired for this.

He tried to skip such an embarrassment, but to no avail. The man in front of him did not let him.

Yet, as the interview went on, he began to rethink what he knew.

No, Peter thought. This was not the face of a man betrayed, tricked into matrimony by a treacherous woman. This was the face of a man who was afraid, anguished even to lose his wife, and the little gestures, these gazes between them were sincere and loving, like one built with years of intimacy and hardships.

He did not know their story. Yet, he had this conviction: things were not as they seemed. This woman wasn’t just a young governess that had seduced her employer. She was so much more than that.

It did not matter by itself. Yet, he felt the uneasy spectator of a show that had begun without him.

….

Just a few weeks after, there was no denying the truth. Scarlett was pregnant, and very much showing it. 

And Rhett was very fearful, and very much not showing it. 

He was restless, haunted, and it was breaking her heart to see him like that. He could not sleep at night, though he tried to hide it from her. On and on, she felt him leave the bed when he thought she was asleep, and pace and pace. Seventy steps, she counted. Seventy steps, one frustrated sigh, and when he came back to bed, his grip was too strong, too despaired.

He was like a lion in cage. Wanting to flee, yet trapped.

He would not drink. It would have been too obvious. But he would not eat either, too focused on what was on her plate.

And now, the children, seeing it, had changed the story again, and were adding their efforts to his. They seemed almost as anxious with her as when she did not try to be a tender mother, she deplored. Yet, now, they clanged to her.

Pork ran around anxiously, at each time presenting her with fruits and vegetables, urging her to eat.

And then, there was Pansy, and as the days went on, conflicts arose with Rhett as her friend, fiercely protective of her freedom of movement, pestered Rhett and mocked his attitude, saying he reacted as a caveman and would not let her breathe.

Well, Scarlett did not quite agree with the first part, for she knew her man. She could guess why he reacted like that. She could see the ghosts of the past in his eyes, could remember as well as him. Yet, it was true he would not let her breathe. And in the way, she realized, he would not let himself breathe either.

Oh, yes, he was so overbearing, watching Scarlett’s every gesture, anticipating her needs and every action in such a way she felt like a baby. He wasn’t even touching her, like a husband would his wife! 

No. Maybe the tip of his fingers, and she was ashamed to admit she was weak at the knees just by such a little crumb.

As for the baby... He did not even mention it, and she felt as if he was avoiding it entirely.

She tried being understanding. She tried being soft, being caring and loving. Yet, he escaped all her attempts and dismissed it as foolishness. Not that he said it, but she felt it. He would not let himself be cared for, and amplified his own pampering in such a way she wanted to scream.

This was not to be born.

So one evening, before he came home from a meeting he could not cancel, and the children were tucked to bed early, she prepared with a heavy heart his suitcase and a basket of goods so that he might not go hungry, and awaited his return, sat beside it.

His eyes widened as he took on the scene. He froze, put on an ironic smile that did not last.

“Well, I should have known you’ll get tired of me eventually.”

“Oh, you’re insufferable!” She cursed, crossing her arms as if to gather the pieces of her heart. She knew that was what she had to do. Yet, it did not make it easy to do. “I can’t deal with your insecurities right now. I can’t do it.”

She was shaking, her eyes bright. He faltered, took a step forward.

“Scarlett… my love…. You can’t certainly think of…”

She took a step down, waving off his attempts. She needed to keep her mind focused, clear. 

Oh, why was he making it so difficult? 

“No… No, you will not persuade me with endearment and promises. It will not work! You can’t lock me up every time something happens! This is no way to live, Rhett!”

His jaw tightened. 

“I’m only preventing you from getting hurt, darling,” He seethed. “It’s a very hard job to do.”

“I can meet my death anywhere, anytime!”

“Not if I can help it. Scarlett!” He went to her, fidgeting. “Why are we fighting? Is it because of what your friend says? Are you that influenceable?”

“Don’t bring Pansy into this,” She retorted. “It’s about you. You and me, and death.”

He froze, his lower lip slightly trembling, then his fists clenched, and eyes hardened.

“You will not die, I’ll make sure of that. Let me take care of you…”

“But you can die too,” She said in softer tone. “And you’ll hurry it if you spend it worrying about me. It is life, and when there’s life, there is death, you can’t just divide the world like that. Old, young, man, woman… baby…” She let out a sob. “It can all end anytime. Yet… isn’t it what makes life so important? You used to know that, before.”

“Before, I thought I had nothing to lose,” He said, and he seemed already defeated.

She wanted to take him into her arms and give it all up, yet, she knew it would defy her purpose. Their future was at stake. She caressed his cheek, trying to convey her strength to him.

“But you will lose me. And I will lose you. It’s inevitable, and I do hope it will be when we are old and forgetful,” His body startled, and he began to search on her face the truth he had not seen, so focused he was on the nightmare in his mind. “If this adventure taught me something, it’s that I don’t want to spend it afraid and angry, not even with you. I’ve been afraid and angry for so long, and now… I know I deserve more than that.  _ We _ deserve better than that.”

She sighed.

“Go. I know you need it, because it is in retreat you can think more clearly and find strength again. And I know it tears you apart because you think you can’t leave me alone to face it, and you will not find me when you come back. But you will,” She took one last breath, the lump in her throat worsening. “And if you stay, you will always remember that day in the stairs, and all the guilt and the despair that followed it. It shatters me to do it, but… I want to bring this child to a peaceful home. And I want you and I to be free, without always having to watch with fear at what had happened in the past. It is the past, and I don’t want it here.” 

“Scarlett…”

She couldn’t let him talk. If he talked, he would persuade her otherwise, and it would only repeat itself.

“I love you,” She uttered in a breath. “I’ll be waiting for you. I’ll always be waiting for you. Do you really think I’ll die and make you a victim in our story? Ha!” She closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts as he watched her in awe. Her voice, which she had managed to keep calm and strong until then, broke. “Go, face your fears and come back to me when you’re ready. Find your courage and come back, and we’ll face it, together. Don’t ever dare to come back if you’re not up to face it, Rhett Butler, or… or… you’ll not be welcomed with love and kisses, but with a rifle!”

He kissed her abruptly, pulling her to him by the wrists.

“I got the idea.” His thumbs plucked the tears that had fallen. Yet, he could see she would not falter, and it made him love her more. “My brave, wonderful woman.”

“Leave the pleasantries for later,” She muttered begrudgingly. “And eat. I once promised I’ll never let my folk go hungry, and you’re it too. Come back to me strong and healthy. We’ll have work to do when the baby comes.”

“My love…” Frustrated, she fought with him with her fists, and he let out a weak chuckle as he managed to maintain her in his arms, shaking with fury and tears. “Alright, alright, I’ll go… But I’ll come back.”

He kissed her forehead softly, lingered a moment, before letting go. She watched him turn back and leave. She refrained from begging him to stay, for she knew it was not the solution. So, she waited and believed, strong with the memories of happiness and misery they shared, and the trust in their love and ability to face it.

…

He came back on the night of the third day, his body cold yet firm beside her on the bed. The window was slightly open, and she heard it clack once. She said nothing, not daring to face her just yet. Her eyes tearing up in happiness, she did not tell him of the children’s many questions about his departure. She did not even talk of a strange event that had occurred during it, when, coming back from a shopping errand, she had been pulled in an alley by someone, until a bystander managed to make the mysterious aggressor flee. She did not think of it, for when she felt Rhett’s shaking hand laying hesitantly on her belly, she knew it would be alright.

“May I return home?” He said, and there was, under the apparent jest, a vulnerability in his voice that erased all possible anger she had tried to conceal. “Is this house still my home?”

When she finally found her voice, it was clear and strong, and she felt surprised to see that she actually felt it. 

“You are the king of it, foolish man, it will always be your home” She scolded, before faltering. How she had missed him so! Maybe she had been too harsh… Maybe… “Did… did you figure it out? It wouldn’t change my love if you didn’t, but…”

He cut her before she weakened, knowing she was to be picked before falling further under her dark thoughts. And he would never let her fall. Never.

“Yes, Scarlett. Yes, I did. I’ve kicked myself for you, my love, and you certainly helped very much. I didn’t know I needed it, but now I’m ready for any war life would throw at me,” He jeered lightly, before tapping her chin to make her meet his eyes. “as long as you are by my side, I’ll fight lions and wolves, steal gold from ogres and dragons, climb the highest mountain…”

She let out a sigh of relief. His voice was firm and warm, just as she liked it, and now he was even being overdramatic, just to make her smile. How could she resist?

“We’ll have our baby, Scarlett. We’ll do it together.”

She let out a happy, tearful laugh.

“Welcome back, my love. Welcome home.”

And when her hand found his, it was finally strength against strength, and she knew she had been right. 


	42. Chapter 42

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone and thank you for your support!!
> 
> Here it is, Scarlett's pregnancy is revealed! Denied pregnancy is really a surprising thing when it's suddenly brought back to life, and in my work, I've recently had to accompany one future mother, especially through the swift changes in her body as she finally realized she was pregnant. It went from what seemed a flat belly to a swollen one in a matter of days, and there was this question that came back often to her: "Where the hell could he have hidden himself?"
> 
> Here, with Scarlett, it put to light not only her own denial and ignorance about her body, but also Rhett's denials as well. 
> 
> I hope you will like this chapter. Some moments are really sweet, and I think I had my teeth sticking because of it. So I may have added some angsty tiny little moments. You know, to unstick it.
> 
> ... I'm really bad with fluff, am I not?
> 
> Good reading!

Suddenly, just as the mystery was still great about the events in Butler’s Hearth, such as Miss Bertha’s illness and Captain Butler’s disappearance of three days, the house opened up once again for a masquerade ball, and many were invited, from many states. 

It was a grandiose party, as everyone was all on one level, one such that it was difficult to know who was who. Even the disguises and masks could not differentiate the higher born to the lowers, as they had been provided very generously by the host himself and generally covered a big part of the body and the face.

Yet, ladies and gentlemen shrugged. Certainly, if the other people had been invited, it must have been that they belonged in the same circles, and it was with this belief that they enjoyed themselves very much, and allowed themselves quite the eccentricities. Especially when was brought up a contest of role-playing, the winner having the satisfaction of the admiration of its audience, but also that the sum gathered by each contestant and supports would serve a great cause, that of an orphanage in Georgia, and the restoration of the one in the city.

In this, a young woman dressed quite soberly as Southern widows used to do, distinguished herself and gathered many supports for her rendition of Lady Macbeth.

A few minutes before the reveal came and all masks had to be taken off, the host, which was quite remarkable for his lack of disguise came with the young widow at his arm and raised his glass. He made a great and very eloquent speech about his pleasure at seeing so many good men and ladies enjoying themselves. All cheered him as he continued, a mischievous twitch of the mouth and glint in the eye, and evoked the strength of the South and its people, and their evident open-mindedness and courage in supporting causes of the greatest good. His companion at his side seemed to grin, green eyes bright like those of a cat’s.

And then, swiftly, he changed the subject and announced. 

“I do have the greatest pleasure with that to announce that Miss Bertha has agreed to become my wife. My deepest apologies to most of the gentlemen right here, she’s not available anymore.”

Some groaned, some cheered and laughed, yet all presented their congratulations to the obvious couple. Especially some ladies who were known for their great minds, and the way they had handled men’s work to survive after the war. To these, Miss Bertha whispered a connivant:” For the cause,” and to some, her smile was cheeky.

There, theories flew, such as the young woman had finally tricked the captain into matrimony by seducing him. Or maybe it was the contrary? Both sides were at war, especially when came the questions of the motivations, some ladies being quite grandiloquent at praising the woman’s devotion and sacrifice. 

Yet, the music continued, and all was forgotten until finally the clock rang and everyone had to let go of their mask. 

There, two shocking reveals came. 

The first was that suddenly the host and his new fiancée were nowhere to be found. 

The second, that among the invitees, most that had been appreciated and talked with, there were former slaves, militants, gypsies, and members of the working class. Some very much bewildered at having got along with people they thought they couldn’t possibly, and very surprised at having been tricked so.

No one knew really from which side came the first laugh. But soon enough, it spread quickly, and the party continued. 

Oh, Captain Butler was such a devil! And his woman, for then, she couldn't be anything else than his accomplice!

….

Weeks passed, and there was no denying the truth that Scarlett’s pregnancy, though quite spectacularly brought up to the light and with a swift development of the belly raising many questions in the family as to the date of the conception, was going as it should be. Even if it still took many appointments to a very tired Dr. Hopskins who had to explain that, yes, it was not worrying that the young woman’s womb would be so big in such a short time, as it seemed the baby seemed to have finally settled as babies generally did (which brought up the question as to how it could have settled before and not shown any sign before). But certainly, the most embarrassing question that he had to answer was that of Scarlett herself, when she asked why she had her monthlies still each month before that. Thankfully, her lover had been swiftly sent out of the way for a moment (and the task seemed to have been hard, for the doctor quickly realized Captain Butler was not a man to flee over such a matter as womanly particularities and could be quite inquiring). 

Scarlett knew indeed that even if her man had come back with new strength and ready to face it with her, adding other worries to the matter may prove quite unnecessarily counter-productive to that work if there was nothing to it, as she thought it was. 

And indeed, it seemed like it, for the doctor said that in such cases, blood could come as usual, like a trick of the mind that said nothing of the real state of the body. 

As for Scarlett and Rhett, they talked about it only once, but it was one time that finished settling it all in their relationship, and they left it lighter and freer. It was the night, and they watched the stars after a little evening picnic, away from the children. Rhett’s head was on Scarlett’s lap, and she caressed his face tenderly, relishing in the warmth of the moment. His eyes were closed, and he seemed peaceful. She watched him until the darkness prevented her from seeing the details of his features, and when it did, he opened his eyes, and she shuddered at the pain in it. 

“Scarlett,” He said, and his voice was quiet and a little sad. 

“Rhett? What’s going on? Are you…”

“It’s alright, darling,” He paused, as if asking himself if it was the right thing to do, and she wanted to soothe the frown on his forehead. How much time had he spent there thinking, when she thought he was carefree? “There’s something, I believe, I have to come clean to you. 

About that day, when I returned from Charleston. About all the miseries that happened…”

She sighed heavily and shook her head.

“Rhett, I told you. It’s the past and…”

“… It has to stay in the past. Yet, my dear, I do believe for me it’s not that simple, and I can’t promise you the effects it had on me will never be shown again. I won’t impose it on you if it’s too much to bear for you. You already have enough on your plate. Yet, living with you makes me realize I cannot go on denying the truth anymore… I want… I need… to get it off my chest somehow.”

Her eyes examined him attentively, silently, and he awaited their judgment with anxiety, unused as he was at this second honest confidence. 

Well, to be honest, the first one had been quite urgently prompted, but then it was one thing now he realized he needed, that they needed, to settle the stones correctly in their relationship, so that the walls of their love may not crumble around them. It had been about the past, his past. Yet, now, it was about one matter in their relationship that was not a secret, yet not a shared truth either. It was a matter he had tried to ignore time and time over, yet came back just as often. Especially now.

She had accepted until then everything about him. Would she now, hearing the words he was going to say, and that will necessarily hurt her?

It was agonizing, yet he knew if he kept it to himself, he would go crazy. He almost did. 

She nodded quietly, he let out a breath of relief. 

“Go on.”

He gathered his thoughts and began.

“When I saw you… When I heard your body fall down these stairs… My heart stopped. For a moment, I could do nothing but stare and stare. I couldn’t think. I could have catch you at that moment. But I did not. You wore a red nightgown that day, and I could only see that red fabric rolling down, light and meaningless. And then, just as suddenly, there was a body, your body, and I had done nothing to stop it. Worse than that, for a moment… For one terrible moment… scoundrel that I was, I almost felt relief…”

She stopped caressing his hair.

“Rhett… You’re hurting yourself…”

Yet, he did not seem to hear it, and seeing him suffering like that, she did not even think that she could be offended by what he was saying. Instead, she was also feeling it with him, in a terrible contagion of emotions that she did not know how to stop.

“Relief because I was free! Because I was hurt, and you hated me, you didn’t want me, nor our family and I wanted everything to go to hell because I was living a lie and it was because of you… or so I thought. But the moment stopped, and then I realized… I was the one to tie me down, and you… You, that I loved so much, you that I hated so much… what kind of man was I, to feel relief? Under what kind of spell was I? I could never be free of you, yet I could lose you. I could lose you!” His voice broke. “You that I thought would always be here, somehow waiting for me. You that could survive wars and losses, you could be broken, and by me. How terrible, my love, to think you could be destroyed, and that I could be the one to do it! How terrible to think that you could be taken away from me, like this, and it could happen in a blink! To think that I could live without you…!

“I have waited, for you to give me a sign. I did not want to think of your pain. I could not. It was easier for me to think you could not feel, and I’m ashamed to tell you I took care to delude myself like that. Because, then, it was easier to let you go. I told Miss Melly I would wait forever if only there was a chance you would love me, but I have to admit I had stopped looking for it. It was easier to focus only on Bonnie, who loved me. Bonnie who was young, and who could not possibly die before me, like you almost did. Bonnie that I could not lose… Simple, cold logic. Through her, it was also you I was seeing, you as I wished you to be: unbreakable and for me, only for me… But I did lose her. I did lose her, and you were still here, further away from me than ever, and yet, even your presence, I could lose. So why not end it all now? Why not kill you and me as well, so then it would all be finished? 

“I was driven mad, that time. Whenever I had to think, whenever I had to feel, I would drink myself to death, but death would never come. And then Miss Melly died. I knew it would happen, and I considered it as a sign. I had to stop myself from hurting that way. It brought some sense of purpose, some calm. As if suddenly all feeling had left me, and nothing could reach me anymore. With her gone, how could I ever hope to have you, and never lose you? She was the only ally I had left. I took it as a sign and packed my things. And you came. You came with tears in your eyes, and you said you loved me. But I could not bring myself to think of it. And when you said we could have another child… All I could think was that day on the stairs, where I almost lost you. And then I got angry, because I thought you wanted to replace Bonnie….”

“I did not…”

“I know, Scarlett. But it was easier to focus on the fact I was angry with you for thinking so than thinking that maybe all feeling of care and love had not completely disappeared, and that I was still afraid to lose you.”

Scarlett’s eyes widened, and she returned back to the current events.

“And when you’ve reproached me of not seeing I was pregnant…”

He nodded, a pained expression on his face.

“I was reproaching myself of not seeing it. Of not being prudent enough. I was risking your life once again, and here we were, and I was going to lose you… It had always been easier for me to blame you, for then you’ve always let me do it. I could live thinking that I did not care for you, and it was especially easier when I thought you cared nothing for me, that you did it out of malevolence. But I could not live knowing you were going to die. So I fled. Like a coward. I fled because I had not the strength to catch you when you fell. I fled because it was easier to think you lived still, and that I could reach you anytime I’d be ready, than losing you before my eyes. But losing you, it seems I risk it all the time, and then… No, I cannot… I cannot do it again…”

Scarlett’s mind ran up and down with this information, her tiny clipped brows raising and frowning, her mouth tight with concentration, and when she heard the last words, her resolve broke. She raised abruptly, and Rhett yelped as the lap where he had been resting his head on was suddenly quite the lost haven, leaving him falling on the grass with his woman scowling above him.

“You’re too hard on yourself. Get up.”

“Scarlett…”

“Get up, I say. You have got it out of your chest, but now you’re falling back in, and I will not stand for it,” She berated him. “Here!”

She let herself fall. He caught her swiftly, without a blink, and scowled at her.

“Scarlett!”

“See. You've caught me,” She grinned, raised, and fell back in again. He caught her, and this time did not let her go. “Here, you've caught me again. Enough nonsense about you feeling guilty over what happened, and feeling relief. My, I would have felt relief as well, if I had been in your place.”

“You madwoman…” He bellowed, and there were anger and strength in his voice.

“Rhett, you cannot change the past, and I cannot as well,” She pleaded lovingly, yet strongly. “You have me now, and I have you. We have lived these things, these terrible things, and then here we are. We are not the same we were before. The same things may happen, but we will not be like before. I know I won’t, because now I know you are here, with me, and that I can trust you. I will listen to you, as long as you would need me to. But I will not let you fall back in again, just like you will not let me fall either. We are stronger than this. We  _ are _ . And if you don’t believe it, I will repeat it to you until you do.

“I will let you go, over and over again, if it’s what it takes for you to come back to me. I will let myself fall over and over again into your arms, if it will stop you from feeling guilty over not catching me when you could have, if this image of you catching me sticks into that thick head of yours and brings you peace. But there are only a few things I can do, and still you may not believe it, and I may not always be able to say it in a way that would make you do so! I wish… Oh, I wish there was a way, to make you see…”

She stopped abruptly, her eyes glinting with the strength of a new idea. She took off her brooch, looked at it with a wistful smile, then handed it to him. 

“It doesn’t have to be mine alone,” She said softly. “It doesn’t matter how many times you need to go to figure out what you have to do. As long as you have it to remember I am waiting and longing for you to come back. We are always together, even apart.”

He felt his heart pushing again his ribcage, as if it was dying to lay itself at her feet.

“We could take turns,” He jeered lightly, his heart squeezing. “For when my bad manners are too much for you.”

“We certainly could,” She smiled. “We don’t have to be happy all the time, and to know exactly what we should do to make it right. As long as we are together in the end, that’s the most important thing.”

He folded his arms over her, his chest warm inside and out, and closed his wettened eyes. On his lips came a prayer of thanks that did not leave it, but that was still in his mind.

They stayed in each other’s arms all night long, and allowed themselves to cry over what had happened to them, and by the morning, they felt stronger and more united than ever, their equilibrium restored. 

The next days, a room in the house was opened and freshened up to serve as a nursery, and swiftly, furniture was brought, with Rhett watching closely the advancements. 

Cheekily, as she was requisitioned to give her opinion about the important matter of the colors and the disposal of the furniture, Scarlett sneakily remarked:

“For someone who was quite unsure about babies, you are quite preparing this one’s arrival very swiftly.”

To that, he sent her a jeering smile that squeezed her heart, and replied.

“Doom is a day that has to be prepared, my dear.”

…

Yet, another trial came to the family when Pork suddenly had a fit of fever and sore throat. Despite Rhett’s protests, Scarlett, mindful of her promises, though they never had been formulated that way, quickly took the role of the nurse, and used his own words to justify it. She would not move from her post, and though she accepted Pansy’s help for their shared memories of the man, it was clear other efforts would be dismissed with quite a possessive ruckus. 

Pork, if he seemed quite touched by it, appeared also quite distressed for he wasn’t used to being cared for so, and being in such a powerless state was a frustrating thing to him. He tried to chide them softly, yet he also was dismissed by Scarlett who exclaimed he had been quite fidgety about her eating fruits and vegetables, so it was his turn to be harassed so. And it became even worse when Prissy, informed by it, suddenly came to the house to join the duo. 

Rhett shrugged amusingly at the former servant’s discomfiture, remarking lightly to him that he had better get used to being pampered, for there seemed certainly to be no way around it. 

Yet, soon enough, the state of the greatly ill patient got better. Finally the children were allowed to come near and Scarlett had the surprise, after falling asleep on a chair near Pork, to see that Wade was reading him  _ Uncle Tom’s cabin _ , the other children listening to him in wonder. As for the old man, he had tears of pride in his eyes at seeing that young boy that he had seen grow at his side reading with such spirit, and looking at him as if he was the hero of the story. 

Scarlett’s emotions, much more sensitive due to her pregnancy, quite overwhelmed her, and she quietly retired herself, blaming herself as she thought with sudden distress that she had been so much like the Marie St Clare in the story, spoiled, supercilious and cruel, and Rhett and Bonnie like the sarcastic though great Augustine and the pure Evangeline St Clare, and with such a comparison, was she truly worthy of such happiness?

It was in quite a sobbing and crying jag that Rhett found her later, accusing herself of things she never did, her body trembling with exhaustion and the heat of her feelings. 

He gathered her into his arms, lightly caressing her back as he whispered “There, there…” with a fond smile that threatened to become a laughter. There, her accusations went directed to him as she escaped his embrace, and he remarked cheekily that she must once again in one of her mood swings, to be upset over such a silly thing. 

He laughed even harder when she threw him a porcelain statuette, and, as she saw the pieces of it, and the loving eyes of her man, she soon joined him as well.

The next day, she was all better and he offered her an adorable little golden spaniel cocker. She cooed at it, her hands waving energetically as she tried to attract it to her side.

“Because I know you like having the attention of a submissive dog,” He said mischievously. “And I’m sure you’d miss it one day.”

She ignored the jibe with an amused smile, her eyes on the little pup.

“Oh, it’s a sweetheart! Does it have a name?”

He smirked.

“Ashley.”

She blinked.

“But… it’s a girl.”

“Ashley is as much a feminine name as a masculine one. In fact, I do believe it had always been more feminine, actually.”

A giggle escaped her lips. “Rhett, you’re a petty man!”

The corners of his mouth twitched until he could not contain his satisfied grin. 

“Oh, you will allow me that one moment of victory over an old rival, won’t you?”

“Oh, I will! But then you will allow me to laugh at it as well.”

“You little minx! Well, laugh as you want, it doesn’t change my victory.”

“Victory? Fiddle-dee-dee, I was not even aware there was a battle.”

“Oh, come here, now!”

But with a giggle, she blew a raspberry at him and ran, the little dog barking and running at her feet. Laughing, Rhett entered the chase. 

He supposed there were people who lived their lives and people who watched it. 

Ashley Wilkes, by being a book reviewer certainly was an example of it. Too coward to write his own book, yet too confident of his own superiority that he would think of judging others.

Yet, as he finally caught her, her skirt warming his legs, and her laughter a melody to his ears, he felt as if he was just losing his time thinking of old feuds instead of kissing her. So he did. 

…

Outside the haven of their home, Scarlett found also new trials, especially the secret, not so secret society where she swiftly was caught in, and hauled almost like a heroine, when finally the support and the pieces of advice seemed to pay off. At ease with her new work, she petted, guided, checked, berated, sometimes bullied the other members, and very swiftly found a way to gather them all when they were once only tiny clans to one more solid organization when she pointed out they could make more profit and savings in the charges if they gathered all their specificities in their own shopping mall that they could open together (though with the names of the more pliable gentlemen for decency’s sake, of course).

She kept her pregnancy a hidden thing, with many tricks she knew. And then, there were these lovely wrappers she had ordered, elegant, with enough colors to lighten up her allure without being indecent, and that did not accentuate the waist. 

And then, she realized later, others were beginning to wear it as well, without even having the secret excuse of being pregnant. 

Curiously, she did not realize some had taken to wear it to mimic her, though it might have flattered her immensely to know it.

If some had their suspicions, they did not say it, and Scarlett was very much pleased to find that the people were much more open-minded here, than when she was in Atlanta. 

Yet, the most difficult thing was when she tried to introduce a begrudging Pansy to just as reluctant ladies. There, Scarlett scowled. 

“The world has changed. Can we truly stay stuck in our own way, or are we going to be the ones to lead the way?”

And thus it was adopted. Yet, it was not until Pansy showed her first sketches of advertisements that she was truly accepted. But, even if she had at first been hesitating to such work, she found a way to get money for her talent, and it seemed to please her, and they spent the night working on the project.

After that, both friends came home, and Pansy sneakily remarked. 

“Fine words.”

“Fiddle-dee-dee. Of course, they are fine. They’re yours,” Scarlett shrugged. “Yet, I have to say I do say them quite nicely.”

Her friend snorted.

“Tch. Some things never change.”

Walking, they looked at the darkness around them. Pansy paused, before admitting she had met Adrian, and her former lover was willing to help her raise the baby.

“And you, what do you want?” Scarlett said softly. 

Pansy stopped a little, a wistful smile on her lips. “He’s kind... sometimes. But it is not him that I want…”

She shook her head, and affected a giggle that was unusual for her. “As for that baby, though I know I’m quite good at watching over children, I feel quite at lost, with the circumstances that had led to it. I don’t love the father. I don’t dislike him, but I don’t  _ love _ him. So it makes me wonder… will I really love the child?” She looked at Scarlett. “Any advice? After all, you have much more experience than I…”

Pansy winced, feeling it was quite harsh, yet Scarlett did not seem to think ill of it for that. She released a breath of relief. She truly had changed. 

Instead, Scarlett’s voice was soft as she answered. 

“Don’t feel guilty if you don’t love the child at first sight. It doesn’t always work like that. I wish somebody had told me that before. You may not love the child from the first, or even the thirteenth time. Yet, it is a part of you, and you can always learn to. You’re not an unhuman woman if you don’t.”

Pansy blinked, surprised.

“Surprisingly wise.”

“It seems I’ve grown.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Pansy teased. “You’re still a spoiled woman.”

“And very proud to be so!” Scarlett exclaimed cheerfully, before adding cheekily. “And you can be too. If you would only let yourself be spoiled.”

“I fear it doesn’t work like that. Not with the man I want. Aren would never…”

“One can never know.”

And then, by a strange twist of fate, they crossed one group of young rakes.

Aren was among them. He looked at Pansy, red raising to his forehead, before turning away. Pansy faltered, her heart seeming to fall from her eyes to mouth, then to her throat. 

She looked at her friend sadly. “See. It can’t happen.”

…

The situation quite bothered Scarlett. Yet, as she came to show more, another matter arose as the children realizing a sibling may be coming soon, began to organize what they called “Mother’s caring time”, which was for Scarlett her personal living hell. 

At first, she had been touched by the suggestion, of a time for herself when they would take care of her. 

Yet, soon enough, it became a time when she was put like a doll on a throne of soft cushions where she was not allowed to move as Ella gave her all the delicacies she learned to make, Wade watched carefully to everything she was doing, and especially eating to make sure she had a healthy routine. Sometimes, he would tilt his head on the right, and whisper a disgruntled “too much sugar”… Or too much another thing. 

And then he began to read many history books to her “to instruct his new baby brother.” 

Rhett was insufferable during these times, and he once made with Ella a crown of flowers for his own amusement at the scene. 

“Well, my dear,” He drawled as he put it on her head. “you wanted to be a queen, now you have to bear the crown."

“Great balls of fire, that’s certainly not what I had in mind,” She said at that time, her fingers still sticking with the sugar of the pastry she had been eating. She looked at it in wonder. “But damn, these pastries  _ are _ good!”

She blushed as she saw that Ella had witnessed her curse, yet the girl only grinned, and ran to the kitchen, certainly to bring some more. 

“I am such a terrible example,” She mumbled. 

Rhett chuckled, and there, suddenly, the baby in her belly seemed to jump and kick, and all her attention went to him. 

Because of course, it had to be a  _ he. _

“You sneaky little scoundrel!” She cursed. “One can never doubt who your father is, showing up unexpected, with all the dramas and the mischief, and now making quite the ruckus in my belly!”

“Well, I didn’t know I had a fisherwoman as a woman.”

“This is all your fault!” She turned her attention to the man who had interrupted her thoughts. “And now I’m ugly and big like a walrus!”

She was distraughtly beautiful, and he yearned for her. Humming, he carried her into his arms, and she let out a surprised cry, before snuggling against him. They crossed a grinning Ella with her plate of pastries, followed by a scowling Wade who was trying to reason with his sister over the unhealthiness of it. 

Wade seemed to appreciate the interruption for it thwarted Ella’s attempts, but then the girl pouted. 

“Now, it’s my time to take care of Mother,” Rhett said, and Scarlett scowled. 

They seemed to accept it, and soon enough, Scarlett found herself in a sweetly odorant bath, her muscles relaxing with the cold water and Rhett’s tender massage. 

Alright, she did not dislike these moments quite so much. 

But then, the hands were not wandering as much as she wanted them to, and she found herself hopping up and down with impatience. 

“You smell of sweat and dirt,” She said pointedly. “Get in. There’s enough room for the both of us in that tub.”

Rhett's white teeth flashed between the two tantalizing red lips.

“You do know how to make a man feel wanted, my dear,” He drawled.

“It’s getting cold.”

“Well, it’s asked so nicely. How could I say no?”

"If you don't want to..."

"Oh, I do, I very much do!"

He was swift in his removal of clothes, and as he went in, she eyed him appreciatively, all shame forgotten thanks to the urgency of her needs. 

Pregnancy had that kind of advantage that she could very much use it as an excuse for any kind of lack of propriety. Eagerly, she was drawn to his side as he settled in, a contented smile on her lips. He put his arms around her, and she made a show of scrubbing him, though, to her disappointment, she swiftly realized her growing belly hindered her in her task. Chuckling, he took the sponge from her, and did it for the both of them, while she took care of his hair with tender attentiveness, trying to hide the effects his caresses had on her. 

She was so much more sensitive now, and he knew it, the damn rascal. Gone was the apprehension of the first days, where he was afraid of hurting her. Now, he delighted in it until she was at her breaking point.

“Did you find any louse yet, my dear?” He said, amused. 

“I certainly see one right here that is nagging me,” She quipped. 

He let out a warm chuckle, and pushed her closer to him.

“So, how are we going to name it?”

She grinned. “Him, you mean?”

“You’re so sure it’ll be a boy.”

“I know it. I want it. And to your question, his name will be Reginald.”

“Well, you certainly planned it all. I would have thought you would name it Gerald.”

She seemed to consider it, before shaking her head sadly. “No. I don’t want to give him the name of a dead man. There will never be someone like my father.”

Rhett nodded and, to dissipate the sad mood of his love, lightly remarked. “And Reginald means king.”

She snorted.

“Of course. Why did you think I thought of it?”

“Of course,” He smirked. “But boys are so troublesome. Beware, I won't tolerate him getting all your attention."

She laughed. “Only you could be jealous of your own son!”

“But maybe it will not be a son, as I told you. So then, how are you going to name  _ her _ , my pretty little Cat?”

She defied him with a glare. “It’d be a boy.”

He gave up with a mocking smile. 

“Ce que femme veut, Dieu le veut.”

Her eyes glinted with mischief. 

“Et je le veux ! “

He looked at her, bewildered. She raised her chin, very satisfied with herself. 

“If you thought you would say something that I do not understand to mock me later, you’ve failed miserably.”

“You speak French?”

“My mother came from a family of French descent. Did you truly think she would not transmit anything of it to her own daughters?”

“Then why does it come out only now?”

She shrugged.

“Well, It’s easier to catch some beaux when they think you’re a beautiful little fool. And certainly easier to fool them later. French does not quite help with that, does it?”

“Though you could have attracted more serious ones. I’m sure one Ashley Wilkes wouldn’t have been able to resist.”

She opened wide eyes at that.

“I guess I never thought of it like that.”

“Or maybe you did not want any serious one.”

“Maybe. And then, with the war, it did not seem really important, whether I knew some French or not.”

“So why now?”

Her lips stretched up widely.

“Because you’re being an intolerable show-off and need to be taken down a peg.”

“Donc… “ He said with his little mocking smile. “As-tu lu Thérèse Raquin? “

“Non, et si tu insistes à ce sujet, je te griffe! C’est déjà bien assez fatiguant que Wade n’arrête pas avec ses livres, mais si toi aussi tu t’y mets... !“ (Non, and if you insist on it, I’ll scratch you! It is already enough tiresome that Wade can’t stop with his books, but if you bother me with it as well..!”)

He let out a deep, cheerful laugh.

“Ma sauvageonne,“ He said tenderly. “With you, I believe I’ll never be bored.”

“You better not… mon lapin.”

He blinked. “By God, Scarlett, you go too far. I have to say I feel quite offended at the idea of being compared to a rabbit.”

“Well, it’d be unfair that you would be the one allowed to give some foolish endearments. Though indeed, you’re too feline for that.”

“Like you, ma petite chatte.“

She giggled. “Oh, Rhett! That makes me think of Pa! He used to call me his Puss, you know!”

He stared at her, the corner of his mouth stretching on one side.

“Well, that’s certainly not something I would call any daughter of mine. But I guess it explains things.”

“Don’t even elaborate,” She dismissed it. “I’d say you’re a pig, but then, it doesn’t work either.”

“No, I’m more of a wolf than a pig, don’t you think?”

She raised up a little, her hands gripping lightly as the hair on his chest. 

“Mon loup…” She whispered, her eyes gleaming.“ Mon roi…“

“Oh, do tell me more…” he purred. 

“Mon Coeur…“

“Oh, you have not idea what it makes me feel, to hear you talk like that…”

“I think I may have an idea,” She let out a seductive little smile. “Pirate.”

He kissed her. The limits between their bodies seemed about to blur, and she ached for it.

“Love me.”

“Oh, I do.”

“No. Love  _ me _ .”

He smiled.

He still remembered that day when, frustrated by his avoidance as he still was very much afraid of hurting her, she locked him in his office and, slipping out of her nightgown, she uttered that delicious little threat: Love me! Love me or I will scream!

But scream, she did anyway.

“Say it in French, and maybe I will oblige.”

She bit his ear, and he guffawed. 

“Aime-moi… Aime-moi…”

“You talking in French? How can I resist?” He whispered, kissing her shoulder thoroughly, before making his way to her sensitive breasts. “Mon amour… Amore mio… Meine Liebe… Min elskede…“

She pouted, then gasped as his lips caught one nipple. “That’s unfair.”

He grinned through his ministrations.

“How is that unfair? You once told me I said it too little. Now I mean to tell you my love in every language I know. Mijn liefde…”

She pouted, before kissing him fierily. 

“Mmm…It is quite rough and unrefined, but I think I prefer  _ your _ love language.”

From her throat came a pleasant laugh.

“You rascal. You like it rough and unrefined.”

“I do. Oh, yes, I do.”

The matter of Pansy’s situation slipped from her mind as she was with Rhett, and came back the day after it, on the afternoon, as he found her dozing in the living room.

The young pup was asleep at the feet of her mistress, who was valiantly fighting against Morpheus as well, her lovely head tilting from one side to the other, her lids fluttering and a thin veil covering the green, making the eyes look glassy. One hand was idly caressing Ella’s purring cat, which had settled quite comfortably on her belly.

At this sight, Rhett felt a fond amusement, his heart swelling with love. 

“I see you and that cat seem to get along, finally.”

“We made a truce,” Scarlett said pointedly, her eyes narrowed at the creature. “She likes the baby. And he seems to like her, for suddenly he's calmer.”

“But maybe  _ you’d  _ prefer her off..” He made a gesture at taking the pet from her.

“No!” Scarlett chided suddenly, almost startling the cat. “No, let her. She’s fine here.”

Rhett chuckled lightly. She looked at him with longing, before biting her lip.

“Rhett…”

He raised a brow, and kneeled behind her, his chin resting on her shoulder. 

“Oh, I see there’s something you want to ask of me. Come on, get rid of it.”

“How did you manage to love me still after… well, seeing me pregnant with another man’s child?”

He made of show of pondering deeply the question, before chuckling at her offended pout.

“Well, I can’t say it was the easiest thing, for then one has to think of what happened for the baby to get there,” He jibed lightly, before sobering. “My love, one puts too much value in the woman’s purity, as if one cannot be loved and good if she’s not it, or then it’s a credit to the man who does. Yet, it’s quite the hypocrisy when there’s no single man that stays alone in his bed for long. At least if he doesn’t want to be mocked by his friends. It is quite the twisted thing when society expects women to be chaste, even married women sometimes, when it expects men to wander around to prove their virility.”

“You mean…”

He grinned widely.

“Did you truly think your beaux were virgins when they flirted with you, my dear?”

“God’s nightgown, it certainly was more flattering to think so.”

“So you see. It’s mostly a matter of pride.”

“But Aren?” She doubted.

“I doubt he’s a better man than most. Or if he was, he certainly isn’t now.”

She huffed.

“Isn’t there any man that would be proud to wait chastely for the woman he loves?”

“Only in books, my love. And even if there was, I doubt he could love the woman he had waited for without resenting her at one part of their life. Or she him. There'd always be one to feel unworthy.”

She leaned her head on his. “Would you do something to make it right?”

“Darling, it’s no business of ours. If she wants her man, she had to catch him on her own. I have no care for the life of one Pansy when I’ve got one Scarlett that I want to spend my time loving and spoiling.”

She pouted and frowned, and he sighed. 

The things he would do for this woman.

… 

It was not quite hard to find the man, as he was always lurking in the corners, mooning over that one woman who, in her melancholy, did not seem to remark the one she was waiting for. And then, there was Scarlett, who tried to attract her former accomplice by many tricks, though certainly not her most subtle ones. 

It was very begrudgingly Rhett found himself doing it. Yet, it did not need to be boring.

He sat quietly beside Aren, then exposed his problems in the most ridiculous way he could tell. 

Yet, it did not make that man laugh, though Rhett could very much laugh for two.

“Your woman puts her nose where it doesn’t belong,” Aren groaned.

“I entirely agree. Yet, it becomes my business when it influences her well-being, and  _ de facto  _ mine," Rhett said. “I don’t like your woman. I don’t like her relationship with mine. So you see, it will all be convenient for me if you get her out of my house.”

“I do not want to be convenient to you.”

There, Rhett's expression darkened, and he seemed more serious.

“I have stated my motivations, but you would be a fool to get stopped by such things if you love your little wench.”

Anger flashed in Aren's dark eyes as the words were uttered, and his hand went quickly to his belt.

“Don’t. call her like that.”

Rhett quirked a brow.

“And what are you going to do, shoot me? You did not claim the girl, boy.”

Said-boy faltered, his head lowering with what almost seemed like self-pity.

“She would not want to be claimed. Not by me. Not by anyone.”

“Yet, does that mean she wants to be on her own, and you moping around for all lost opportunities? I dare say, I’ve been once in that state, and that’s not the most comfortable thing…. But then maybe you already found another woman…” Rhett pestered him with a false connivant smile and a pat on the back. “Say, man to man, isn’t so?”

Aren scowled. 

“I am not like you.”

“No. You’re like her. Self-righteous and not inclined to compromise. Yet are you the man that will give up on the woman he loves when she’s all alone and with child?”

“She’s not alone.”

“Oh, because you think I will bear to support a woman I  _ dislike _ , just for the love of mine?” He let out a malicious smile. “Are you really going to lay your peace of mind on  _ that _ ?”

Well, he did support many things and many people, for the love of her. Yet, the other man didn’t need to know. They’d find both what they wanted, after all. 

…

“You did make something, after all.” Scarlett wondered in awe as one day she found Aren in the house, his hands intertwined with those of her smiling friend’s. 

“I don’t know what you mean."

Yet, Rhett grinned largely. She snorted. 

“Of course you do.”

He hummed, his arms folding over her, the tip of his mustache tickling her cheek pleasantly.

“I want to marry you…”

She turned to him, bewildered.

“Right now?”

“Well, what better way to scandalize society than to do it behind everyone’s back, and announcing it grandly later?" His eyes gleamed. "Besides, I doubt this little bump of yours will tolerate waiting for the proper time.”

He waggled his brows in jest.

"You're a right scoundrel, Rhett Butler!" She giggled, before pondering anxiously. “But what about our reputations? Don’t you think it will not hinder Wade and Ella's chances?”

He sighed.

“Things being as they are, I do believe it’s already hindered anyway. But I do believe with time, and a hint of romance, we’ll be soon enough in their good graces. They’ll be fondly calling me a rake for corrupting you, and you will be sacrificed lamb, as I know you can play the role.”

“But… Don’t you think it’d be even worse, when they see the baby that much sooner? When it would be clear that it was conceived much earlier?" 

She bit her lip. 

He kissed her forehead, hoping to soothe the worry wrinkling it. “Don’t worry, my love. They can’t say anything if they don’t see it happening,” She blinked in confusion and he grinned. “I’m taking you and the children to Europe, for our honeymoon. From the amounts of things I want to show you, I do believe we’ll not be back until this little one is two or three.”

“Really, Rhett?” She said, her eyes glinting, before faltering. “But what about Pork? I don’t want to leave him all alone…”

“He can go with us if he wants to. I do remember hearing him say once he wanted to see the Notre-Dame cathedral of Paris, for he heard there was no place closer to God than this one.” 

“Oh, darling!” She squealed. “What a wonderful idea!”

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. “I love you…”

“And I you.” He kissed her back, quickly, settling his hands on the small of her back. “Did you prepare the knot, my dear?”

“The knot?”

“To tie me down.”

“How you do run on. Why would I have to do it when you’ve already prepared it long ago!”

“True enough, my love, true enough,” He flashed her a smile that made her heart squeeze. “See you on the other side, then.”

“I’ll be the one at the altar with the veil and the white dress,” She replied cheekily. “Don’t you dare miss me!”

“My love, I’d be a fool to think there’s a way to escape you!”


End file.
